


No Matter What The Cost

by rusty_armour



Series: No Matter What the Cost [3]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 08:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusty_armour/pseuds/rusty_armour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reed finds himself in a parallel universe where he died instead of Hayes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter What The Cost

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank GallyGee for her invaluable assistance and support. She helped me improve my BritSpeak and discovered problems and inconsistencies I never noticed. More importantly, she believed in my story and encouraged me to keep writing when my spirits were low.
> 
> This is a sequel to "Standing Down".
> 
> ©2006

My grandfather once told me that dreams are only a pale reflection of the waking world. These were words of comfort meant to chase away sleep's demons. I accepted what my grandfather said because even the harshest facets of reality seemed better than the nightmare, but what I failed to consider was the absolute power of illusion. Dreams can be terrifying, yes, but their sheer beauty and breadth are enough to make the waking world unbearable.

Unfortunately, I'm not sleeping anymore. I had hoped that sickbay was just a nightmare but, after speaking with Phlox, I'm painfully aware of the fact that I'm awake. The dream has ended.

Everything was much less complicated the last time I was stretched out on a biobed. I didn't have to worry about philosophy or metaphysics. I only had to focus on my physical well-being, and even that didn't require much work. All I had to do was lie there while Phlox clucked over me like a mother hen, applying cool compresses and adjusting settings on the biobed. As there really wasn't anything for me to do, and I wasn't feeling at all well, I decided to lose consciousness.

When I woke up the muscle cramps were less painful and the nausea had nearly faded. My head was still throbbing, but gentle fingers were stroking my hair. I opened my eyes and wasn't surprised to find Major Hayes standing over me.

"Hullo," I said groggily. Then I blinked a few times as the cloth on my forehead dripped water into my eyes.

Hayes removed his fingers from my hair and immediately looked flustered. I almost laughed when Hayes glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching. He had forgotten about the privacy curtain. I hoped that Phlox had given me something while I was out because I found Hayes's embarrassment rather endearing.

"I just came by to see how you were doing," Hayes said, as if he felt I was in need of an explanation. Then he lowered his voice. "Doctor Phlox doesn't know I'm here."

"Disobeying the good doctor?" I asked in amusement. "You'll be leading a mutiny of your own if we don't watch out."

Hayes's lips twitched, which was usually the only time he came even close to revealing a smile. "I should be going," he said. "You need your rest."

Although I knew from experience that it probably wouldn't work, I had to try. "I'm feeling better now. I'm going back on duty." I removed the cloth from my head and was about to sit up, when a gloved hand fell on my shoulder.

"You're not going anywhere, Lieutenant," Hayes said. "You've got heat exhaustion. In case you hadn't noticed, you almost fried to death in your EV suit."

I couldn't help it. An image popped into my head and I started to giggle. "Flame-grilled Reed," I joked.

"You could have been killed!" Hayes snapped.

My mouth fell open and I stared at Hayes in surprise. Then I shoved his hand off my shoulder and sat up on the biobed. "I could be mistaken, of course, but I could have sworn that there was a sense of humour lying somewhere beneath that tough MACO exterior of yours."

"I have a sense of humour when the situation calls for it," Hayes said. "This isn't one of those situations. You could have been killed."

I sighed and massaged my forehead. "Yes, I believe you've said that already."

"Why did you have to be the one to go out there?" Hayes demanded. "Why did Commander Tucker pick you?"

I pictured Hayes placing his hands on his hips and knew he was watching me. I dropped my hand and met his gaze head on.

"Commander Tucker didn't pick me," I said. "I volunteered." Hayes stared at me in disbelief, and I squirmed uncomfortably. "I was there when we found the problem. I was the best person for the job."

"_How_?" Hayes shot back. "How were you the best person for the job? You're not a god-damn engineer."

I glared at Hayes and fought to keep my temper at bay. "No," I said. "The 'god-damn' engineers were too busy trying to piece the rest of the ship back together. Besides, there was an engineer out there, the chief engineer, in fact. I was only there to assist him."

"And, yet, you're the one in sickbay," Hayes said. He shook his head.

I couldn't understand what the problem was. The answer was bloody obvious, wasn't it? "I was the one closest to the fire," I explained.

Hayes slapped a hand on the biobed. "Exactly!"

Now I was confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I've heard all about your track record," Hayes said. "You've been in sickbay more times than anyone on this ship!"

"That's not true!" I cried. "I'm sure that Trip has been in sickbay more often than I have!"

"Then why isn't he here instead of you?" Hayes asked. He raised an eyebrow and studied me closely. I crossed my arms and said nothing. "Who made you the ship's saviour? What makes you think that you're solely responsible for protecting this crew?"

I glared at Hayes. "I'm the head of security. It _is_ my responsibility."

"So that gives you the right to deliberately put yourself in danger?"

I shook my head. "Major, what happened out there was an accident."

That's not what I heard," Hayes said. He moved away from the biobed and reached for the privacy curtain.

"Major."

He turned back around slowly. There was an expression on his face I couldn't identify.

"Major," I repeated.

"Ah, I thought I heard voices." Doctor Phlox poked his head through the privacy curtain. He looked at me reproachfully. "Lieutenant, you're supposed to be resting," he said. I think I must have mumbled something in response because Phlox cast his eyes up at the ceiling. Then his bright blue eyes were staring at Hayes accusingly. "I don't remember giving anyone permission to visit my patient."

Hayes had come to attention as soon as Phlox had pulled back the privacy curtain, as if he had expected a dressing down. "It's all right, Doctor. I was just leaving."

"Hayes!" I protested.

Hayes paused long enough at the curtain to toss a quick glance over his shoulder. "Get some rest, Lieutenant," he said, before marching out of sickbay. Phlox started fussing over me again, but I barely noticed his presence. My mind was elsewhere.

I hadn't been able to read the look on Hayes's face that day, but I had known that something was wrong. As much as I hate being trapped here, I've always found that a sentence in sickbay provides an excellent opportunity to reflect. Today has been no different. I've had a great deal of time to think, and my thoughts have wandered invariably back to Hayes.

I now know what the expression meant. I didn't realize until I had seen it a second time, for it was only then that I recognized the emotion he'd been trying to hide. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that I couldn't place it at first. It was something I had never expected to see from Hayes: fear.

"Lieutenant."

Phlox is standing beside the biobed, but I'm determined to ignore him. I can't tell him what he wishes to hear because I refuse to believe it myself. It hurts too much to acknowledge what I've lost.

"Mr. Reed." His hands are on my shoulders and he's looking directly into my eyes. There's no way to avoid him now.

"What?" I snap.

Phlox is smiling in what appears to be relief. What's the matter? Did he think I'd gone catatonic?

"You have a visitor," he announces cheerfully. I immediately whip my head around, my body tensing. Then I see that it's Hoshi and start to relax.

_She came. Thank God she came._

Hoshi is hovering near the door, and Phlox has to beckon to her before she'll venture further inside. She's definitely nervous and perhaps even a little frightened. She must have heard about what happened in the transporter room.

"I'm sure you'd prefer to speak to Ensign Sato in private," Phlox says to me. "I'll be in my office if you need anything."

I have the feeling that this last piece of information is actually for Hoshi's benefit, but I nod all the same as he departs from my bedside. My eyes follow him until I know he's inside his office and the door is closed. Only then do I allow my attention to fall back on Hoshi.

She has made it to the biobed, and curiosity seems to have replaced most of her anxiety. I suppose it's hard to see someone as a threat when they're strapped down to a biobed.

"Lieutenant," she whispers, as if afraid to shatter the sterile silence of sickbay.

"Hi, Hoshi," I say. I try to sound as sane as possible.

Hoshi is staring at the restraints. She almost reaches out to touch one, but then thinks better of it and forces herself to meet my eyes instead.

"Doctor Phlox said you wanted to see me," she says.

"Yes, thanks for coming." I pause to collect my thoughts and realize that I'm the one who's nervous. "I'm...I'm sorry for dragging you down here, but I couldn't think of anyone else to--"

Hoshi places a hand on top of one of mine. "You're my friend," she says. I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat. I'm amazed at how much those three simple words have moved me. Fortunately, Hoshi seems to sense my discomfort. She sits down on the biobed next to mine, giving me the time and space I need to compose myself. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath.

"I don't expect you to believe me," I say, "but I thought you might understand."

***

I often arrived for breakfast before the rest of the alpha shift. Sometimes I would dine with a few of the MACOs, who were also early risers. Today I only had a padd for company. I was familiarizing myself once again with the layout of Cold Station 9. We would be arriving at the station in approximately two hours, and I wanted to be sure I knew my way around.

We had only learned the night before that C9 was in danger when the Vulcans contacted Starfleet with their concerns. The Vulcan High Command had received information from its intelligence network that a Klingon rebel faction had ignored the peace directive from the Klingon High Council. This faction was planning to attack C9 to avenge the crew of the Bird of Prey that had been killed by the Augments. While the Klingon High Council hadn't sanctioned this act of vengeance, they didn't exactly disapprove of it either. That left Starfleet to pick up the pieces, so we'd been sent in to evacuate the station before the rebels entered that sector. A simple enough operation on the surface, but I knew from experience that a seemingly innocent situation could grow very ugly very fast.

Shaking my head at the grim turn my thoughts had taken, I directed my attention back to the data in front of me. In fact, I became so absorbed in my padd, that I didn't notice Trip until he was sitting across from me.

"This seat taken?" Trip asked.

"No, of course not, Commander."

Trip beamed and spread his napkin across his lap. He was about to lift his fork, when his eyes fell on my plate. He raised an eyebrow. "No peanut butter?"

I frowned. "No pancakes. Chef, in a pique of artistic temperament, served French toast instead."

"Oh," Trip said. "I hope you lodged a complaint."

I shrugged. "French toast is fine. One can't have peanut butter every day, I suppose."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Trip shovelled some scrambled eggs onto his fork, though he didn't raise the utensil to his lips. "How are you doing, Malcolm?" he asked.

I blinked in surprise. Where was this coming from? "Uh...I'm well, Commander," I said. "How are you?"

Trip set down his fork and regarded me solemnly. "No, really. How are you doing, Malcolm? I want to know." He must have seen the confused expression on my face because then he said, "We haven't really had much of a chance to talk lately."

Oh, so that was it. "Well, there hasn't been a lot of time," I said. "With everything that's been happening since we destroyed the Xindi weapon, it's hardly surprising."

Trip sighed. "I know. It's just that I feel like I haven't been there for you."

"There for me?" I repeated.

Trip squirmed uncomfortably in his chair for a moment before drumming up his courage. "There in case...in case you needed to talk or something. I've been so wrapped up in my own problems, that I've barely given yours a second thought." He reached across the table and touched my arm. "We all went through a lot in the Expanse. Towards the end it wasn't easy for any of us, especially you."

I stared at Trip blankly. What was he talking about? Why was I suddenly so special?

"Commander," I said. "What exactly are you driving at?"

Trip rubbed his face wearily. "Hayes," he stated.

My cutlery slipped from my fingers and crashed on my plate. "Hayes?"

Trip nodded and smiled gently. "You haven't talked about him once since he died."

"How do you know?" I snapped. "I thought you were too wrapped up in your own problems to notice mine."

I instantly regretted my outburst when I saw the concerned look on Trip's face. I had just given him all the ammunition he needed and more. God, this was worse than having breakfast with the captain.

Lifting my mug, I took a fortifying sip of Earl Grey. "I'm sorry, Commander. That was uncalled for."

Trip waved my apology away with a flick of his fork. "Forget about it."

"I appreciate your concern," I said, "but I'm absolutely fine."

Refusing to meet my eyes, Trip pushed the scrambled eggs around on his plate. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you, Lieutenant."

My fingers tightened around my mug. "Believe what you wish, Commander. You have a right to your opinion."

Trip's eyes shot up from his plate. "You worked with the guy. You were starting to become...close. You can't tell me you never think about him." Trip shook his head. "You were there when he died, Malcolm. That had to hurt."

My grip on the mug was growing painful, but I couldn't seem to let go. "I also saw Hawkins die, Commander," I said. "Major Hayes wasn't any different. He was just like Hawkins and the other 24 people who died."

Trip was silent for almost a full minute before I heard him whistle softly. "I just got the strangest sense of déjà vu, only we were talking about Elizabeth, and you were the one trying to get me to open up." He laughed quietly to himself. "God, I was a real pain in the ass, wasn't I?" He was looking at me meaningfully, waiting to see if he'd made his point. Well, two could play at that game.

I set my mug down on the table with deliberate care. "I could see that you needed time and space to deal with your sister's death. Sometimes that's the kindest thing you can do in the circumstances, don't you think? Allow someone to grieve in private?"

Trip gulped and nodded. Judging by his expression, he had received the message loud and clear. "Sure, I guess," he whispered. He picked up his knife and fork and we finished the meal in silence.

***

I had hoped to avoid our chief engineer for the rest of the day, but the Klingon rebel faction had other ideas. When we were approximately 16 million kilometres away, our long-range scanners picked up the de-cloaked Bird of Prey in orbit around the station. Hoshi tried to hail C9 but there was no response. That was when the evacuation procedure turned into a rescue mission. So, while Enterprise kept the Bird of Prey at bay, my team would infiltrate C9 and report the status of its personnel. We hoped to reach the station without being detected by the Klingons and, in order to do that, we needed Trip to operate the transporter.

Trip would modulate the transporter frequencies to match C9's containment fields, disguising our patterns as a field echo should the station's sensors detect us. It was a trick he had devised when we needed to sneak up on the Augments.

He was already standing at the control station when I arrived with McKenzie, Chang, Money and Woods. He glanced up from his console as we assembled on the transporter platform then focused on his task again. For one brief moment, I was foolish enough to believe that our little breakfast chat had been forgotten. Trip quickly shattered that illusion.

"Lieutenant, you know that conversation we had during breakfast?" he asked.

I sighed and closed my eyes. "Well, I haven't developed amnesia since then if that's what you're asking." I heard a snort of laughter from Woods that quickly turned into a cough. Unfortunately, Trip didn't seem to share his sense of humour.

"I'm glad to hear that you don't have amnesia," Trip said, "because when you get back we'll be continuing our conversation." He raised his head, looking much too serious for my liking.

I rolled my eyes. "If you say so, Commander," I grumbled.

"I heard that." Trip smiled and his hands flew over the console. "Have fun," he said. Then he and the transporter room faded from sight.

I reached for my phase pistol as soon as I materialized on the cold station. I immediately observed that C9's systems were offline. The station's white pristine walls had been thrown into darkness. I was about to issue an order to my team, only to realize that they hadn't appeared. My head whipped around in confusion. They should have arrived at the same time I did. Flipping open my communicator, I tried to contact the ship.

"Reed to Enterprise," I said.

Only silence greeted me.

I checked the communicator to see if it was functioning properly and found everything to be in order.

"Reed to Enterprise," I repeated. "Enterprise, do you read me?"

There was nothing.

I glanced at the communicator again and then remembered something: Trip had practically been grinning in the transporter room. I shook my head and lifted my communicator for a third time. "Very funny, Commander."

I waited to hear Trip's laughter on the other end of the transmission, but silence continued to mock me.

"Commander, you've made your point. The joke's over. Now transport the rest of my team."

When there was still no response, I lost my patience altogether.

"This isn't a bloody game, Commander," I hissed into the communicator. "In case you've forgotten, there are lives at stake, and if you don't send my team to the station at once yours could be one of them."

I was starting to grow concerned. This wasn't like Trip. Although he loved a good lark, he didn't indulge in juvenile pranks when he was on duty. He knew that people were in danger and time was of the essence. Perhaps the other pattern buffers had malfunctioned, and I was the only one who had made it across. However, a transporter malfunction wouldn't explain why I'd lost contact with the ship. Had the Klingons found a way to shield all transmissions from the station? Had they attacked Enterprise and disabled the comm? If that were the case who knew what other systems had been knocked out of commission.

I closed my communicator with a sigh and began to consider my options. I had lost contact with Enterprise, which essentially meant that I was marooned on the station. It was hardly an exciting prospect. If life support was included on the list of disabled systems, I was in for a rather uncomfortable visit.

I decided that my first priority was to attempt to bring the systems back online or, at least, determine the extent of the problem. I would worry about the station's personnel after that. With any luck, I would run into some of C9's inhabitants, and not a hoard of Klingons, en route to the control hub. It was my duty to carry out this mission, even if it meant acting alone.

Gripping my phase pistol, I walked towards the large metal hatch at the end of the corridor. The only source of light came from the dimmed light fixtures and wall panels. Despite my best efforts, the grating on the floor still rattled beneath my boots. I began to fear that if there were any Klingons on board the station, they would be able to hear me from several meters away. Nevertheless, I made it to the end of the corridor without incident.

I was about to access the hatch, thinking that I might actually reach the control hub safely, when the hatch slid open itself. I barely had time to react before my phase pistol was kicked from my hand and I was tackled to the ground.

After the initial seconds of dizziness passed, I lifted my head to confront my attacker. Expecting to see a Klingon, I was in no way prepared for the sight that greeted me. Though, truth be told, I'm not sure if _anything_ could have prepared me.

I froze and gaped at the man standing over me.

"Hayes?" I whispered.

***

The blood had drained from his face, and the eyes that stared back at me were full of shock and confusion. I didn't fare any better. I was paralyzed, my mind racing, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. I had to be hallucinating. Hayes was dead.

His eyes were still glued to mine. He reached out for me with a trembling hand, but then changed his mind and withdrew it. He took a step back and raised his phase pistol. His eyes hardened.

"Who are you?" he asked, sounding unmistakably like Hayes.

I must have bashed my head when I hit the ground, I thought, or perhaps the transporter scrambled my brains. I sat up cautiously. "I'm Malcolm Reed," I said, "but I think you know that already, don't you?"

He shook his head emphatically. "No, Lieutenant Reed is dead."

I raised an eyebrow. It was the first I'd heard of it. "Oh, really?" I said. "Last time I checked so was John Matthew Hayes."

"Don't call me that," he snapped. Then he frowned. "Are you trying to intimidate me?"

The man was aiming a phase pistol at me and he wanted to know if _I_ was trying to intimidate him? This whole conversation was becoming more surreal by the second. Maybe life support was offline and my brain was oxygen-deprived.

Managing to stifle a laugh, I said, "I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. I'm as much in the dark as you are." Then I grimaced as I remembered that we were both in the dark, literally.

He didn't even have the courtesy to smile. He just stood there, armed and glaring suspiciously. God, he was like Hayes. But I had seen Hayes die. This man, if that was what he was, had to be an imposter. Then it hit me. This man was a Suliban, perhaps even Silik himself.

The captain had told us that Silik had been killed in the alternate Earth dimension, but his life could have been restored along with the timeline. Trip had seen Daniels die once and, yet, the temporal agent had returned.

Without conscious thought, I found myself reaching for my scanner.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Reaching for my scanner."

"I don't think so," he said.

I shrugged. "Suit yourself." I lowered my hand and stared at a flickering light bulb on the wall.

"What do you want your scanner for?" he asked. He was watching me warily.

"I want to know if you're who you claim to be," I said.

"You want to know if _I'm_ who I claim to be?" he cried. "You're the intruder on this station, not me!"

I snorted. "Not from where I'm sitting." I sighed, wishing I had reached for my scanner more quickly. "Look," I said, "if you don't trust me why don't you run your scanner instead?"

His eyes narrowed. "I'm the one with the gun. I should be the one issuing the orders around here."

"What are you afraid of?" I said. "That you'll discover I'm an alien or that I'm telling the truth?"

"I'm not afraid," he growled. Keeping his phase pistol trained on me, he pulled out his scanner and glanced at the biosign. His forehead creased and he took a second look. "But that's impossible," he muttered.

"What's impossible?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

He was still staring at the readings. "It's a trick," he whispered. "Malcolm Reed is dead. I saw the body." He raised his eyes from the scanner, but I don't think he even saw me. His mind was somewhere else entirely.

I began to wonder if this really could be Silik, or any other member of the Cabal for that matter. What did Silik have to gain from disguising himself as a dead man? Was he simply hoping to throw me off guard? Even if Silik had a reason to impersonate Hayes why would he be insisting that I was dead? Suddenly I had an irresistible urge to reach for my scanner again. I had to know who or what I was facing.

As my captor appeared to be preoccupied, I made another attempt to retrieve my scanner. I had barely moved my hand when his gun jerked at me.

"You're a Suliban!" he said. "They can alter their appearance! Be anyone they want!"

I rolled my eyes. I might have been impressed by his leap of logic if he hadn't already read my biosign on his scanner. "Suliban can change their appearance, yes, but they can't change who they are. They can't disguise their genetic make-up," I explained. "If I were a Suliban, you would have picked it up on your scanner."

"Oh, right," he mumbled.

I decided to attack while his defences were down. "May I?" I asked.

He now looked positively baffled. "What?"

I glanced at the instrument in his hand. "Borrow your scanner?" I said. "It's the least you can do since you won't let me use mine."

He stared at me for so long, I was sure he'd refuse my request. Then, without breaking eye contact or releasing his hold on the phase pistol, he cautiously placed his scanner on the ground and kicked it towards me.

"Knock yourself out," he said.

The words had barely left his lips before I was grabbing the scanner. By some miracle I didn't drop it when I saw the readings. However, my face must have mirrored his earlier expression when he had pointed the scanner at me.

"What is it?" he said, almost sounding nervous.

I managed to tear my eyes away from the scanner. "You appear to be human," I admitted.

"Surprised?" he asked. Now he sounded defensive.

"I am rather," I said. "I suspected that you were a Suliban too."

He grunted but didn't seem to have anything else to say on the subject.

"Maybe we're both hallucinating," I suggested. Then I fought to keep a straight face when I saw a glint of horror dance briefly in his eyes.

"I don't hallucinate," he said, clenching his hands.

"There's a first time for everything," I answered with a wink.

He glared at me coldly, and then we both jumped when his communicator beeped. He reached for it and flipped it open.

"Hayes."

I felt a cold queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach when the captain's voice came from the communicator.

"Major, we've heard from every member of your team except you. Have you run into a problem?"

Hayes, for I was now certain this man was he, glanced at me quickly.

"Yes, sir," he said. "You might say that."

"_Might_?" the captain asked.

Hayes closed his eyes. "Captain, I'm not sure how to say this without sounding..." He gazed at me helplessly.

"Just spit it out," the captain said. He sounded impatient.

There was a long moment of silence from Hayes. I could see that his head was spinning because mine was spinning as well.

"Major, what's going on?" the captain demanded.

"I..." Hayes's eyes were still fixed on my face. "I've found an intruder on the station, sir."

"Klingon?"

Hayes's lips twitched. "No, he appears to be human, sir."

"Appears to be?"

Hayes swallowed uncomfortably and his voice dropped to a whisper. "According to my scanner, it's Lieutenant Reed, sir."

"Come again?" the captain barked.

Hayes raised his voice. "Lieutenant Reed, sir."

We heard nothing from the captain's end for several seconds. Then his voice erupted angrily from Hayes's communicator. "Is this some kind of sick joke? Because if it is..." His voice trailed off and he drew a heavy sigh. "Malcolm is dead, Major."

Hayes's stare was intense and unnerving. "Yes, I know," he said.

The last pause was even longer than the first, but then the captain spoke again in a clear authoritative tone. "I'll be there in five minutes," he said. "Archer out."

Hayes snapped the communicator shut and stashed it back inside his sleeve pocket. Then, to my great surprise, he lowered his phase pistol.

"You can stand up if you'd like," he said.

I was so shaken I'd forgotten I was still sitting on the ground. I wondered if I would even be able to stand up at this point, or if my legs would slip out from under me. Then I asked myself if it was even worth the effort. If I were hallucinating then it hardly mattered whether I sat or stood. In fact, if these hallucinations were the result of a head injury or similar trauma, surely it would be best to remain exactly where I was.

"Lieutenant, please get up," Hayes said. "The captain's on his way and if he sees you sitting there, he might think we got into another fight." Although he didn't smile, I could see that Hayes was pulling my leg.

Doing little to hide my own smirk, I said, "If that were true, Major, you wouldn't be standing either."

Hayes raised an eyebrow, but made no effort to refute my claim. Instead he held out his hand. I took it without a second thought, and Hayes pulled me to my feet. He didn't release my hand right away, but held it tightly. I was in no hurry to reclaim it, so I let him keep it. Then we heard footfalls coming towards us and instantly broke apart. By the sound of it, there was more than one pair of boots. I grabbed my phase pistol from the ground and we both raised our weapons.

"Major Hayes?" a voice called from the end of the corridor. "Sir, are you all right?" Three MACOs came into view. It was Kemper, Romero and Chang. I stared at the third man for a second, wondering if Chang had successfully beamed down from the ship after all, or if he were a part of this strange new world I now found myself in. Then I saw the look on his face and knew that he wasn't the same man who had accompanied me to the transporter room.

"Hello, Corporal," I said.

"Uh...hello...uh...sir?" Chang glanced at Kemper and Romero, but they were gaping at me in stunned silence.

"Thank God," Hayes muttered. "It's not just me." He cleared his throat and managed to get his men's attention. "Get out your scanners and take a reading of...of Lieutenant Reed's biosign."

"Yes, sir!" the MACOs said. I watched in amazement as all three men whipped out their scanners in unison and pointed them at me.

"Well?" Hayes demanded when five whole seconds had passed. His men opened their mouths to answer then clamped them shut again. Hayes and I spun around in time to catch the shimmering light of a transporter beam. I knew who it was before the man had finished materializing, but then we had been expecting him. We all stood at attention, and the captain nodded, casting a quick glance in my direction. Then his eyes were on Hayes and it was as if I didn't exist.

"Report," the captain snapped.

I didn't think it was possible, but Hayes stood even straighter. "Sir, we split up to cover the remaining levels of the station," he said. "I was patrolling this level when I came across what I thought was an intruder." Hayes looked at me with an almost apologetic expression. "I didn't realize who it was. I caught sight of a weapon as the hatch was opening and assumed it was a Klingon." Hayes grimaced. "It wasn't until I had subdued the intruder, and taken possession of his weapon, that I...that I realized, sir."

I expected the captain to acknowledge me at this point, but his gaze had shifted to the other MACOs. "What have you picked up on your scanners?" he asked, jerking his chin at the instruments in their hands.

"He's human, sir," Kemper said.

"You all have the same readings?" the captain asked. He glanced sharply at Romero and Chang.

"Yes, sir!" Romero and Chang said.

The captain's brow furrowed as he turned to Hayes. "Is there any chance the scanners could be malfunctioning?"

Hayes seemed at a loss for a moment. Then he said, "I'm not qualified to answer that question, sir."

You don't need a working scanner, I thought. Just look at me and you'll have all the answers you need.

Usually, I would have been delighted to see the captain displaying such caution, but it was an entirely different story when I was the object of his skepticism. It hurt that the captain seemed incapable of accepting my existence, but was determined to rule out the possibility instead. He couldn't even look at me. He spoke about me as if I weren't even there.

"You're awfully quiet," the captain said.

I looked up in surprise. I'd been so lost in my gloomy reverie, that I hadn't realized he'd finally made eye contact. "I'm sorry, Captain. I wasn't quite sure what to say under the circumstances."

For a fleeting moment, I saw a smile play on the captain's lips, before his mouth returned to a hard thin line.

"We'd better get you back to the ship," he said.

***

"I've run every conceivable test, and the results are all the same. This is, without a doubt, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed," Phlox said.

Once again I was being referred to in the third person, though I wasn't being ignored this time. From my perch on the edge of the biobed, I could see that I had this audience's full attention.

Phlox walked to the viewscreen, and most of the senior staff managed to tear their eyes away from me. Only Hayes and Hoshi seemed to have difficulty focusing on the data Phlox was presenting.

"As you can see," Phlox said, "all of the scans match the records I have on file for Lieutenant Reed."

The captain moved closer to the viewscreen. "Is it possible that we're dealing with a clone or some other kind of replica?" he asked. Trip tensed and I saw Travis give him a sympathetic look. I knew that Trip was thinking about his clone, Sim, and Travis was remembering his experiences on that sinister space station.

Phlox seemed to sense their thoughts, for he said, "The reproduction of Ensign Mayweather's body was a nearly perfect copy of the original, except for the microbes in his bloodstream that could not be duplicated. And while Sim shared Commander Tucker's genetic make-up, he was very much an individual in his own right." Phlox glanced back at the scans on the viewscreen. "I have yet to find any attributes that set our Lieutenant Reed and--you'll forgive me for the awkward phrasing--_this_ Lieutenant Reed apart."

As everyone's focus returned to the subject sitting on the biobed, I was the one who began to feel awkward. In fact, _I_ was beginning to wonder if I really had died.

According to the captain, I had been killed while rescuing Hoshi from the Xindi Reptilian ship. When I explained to the captain that Hayes was the one who had died, everyone else had stared at me in stunned disbelief. I'd been amazed to see Hoshi go pale and clutch Hayes's gloved hand. Hayes barely seemed to notice. Then, from that point on, I'd been bombarded with questions. Indeed, I'd only been spared from the inquisition when Phlox had insisted that he couldn't continue the examination until he had placed me in the imaging chamber. However, now that the scans were complete, we weren't any closer to the truth. If anything, we had more questions than answers.

"Are you really Lieutenant Reed?" Hoshi was sitting beside me on the biobed. Her face was still pale and her dark eyes were far too somber.

"Yes," I said. "At least, I was when I woke up this morning." I smiled and patted her shoulder in what was meant to be a reassuring manner. I was horrified when my gesture seemed to have the opposite effect. Hoshi burst into tears, and I found myself holding a sobbing ensign in my arms.

I looked at my friends helplessly, hoping one of them would come to my aid. They just stared at Hoshi, reflecting my own expression. Then Hayes was moving, but instead of coming forward to offer assistance, he was walking out of sickbay. I forgot about Hoshi and gaped at Hayes in shock. He was leaving without being dismissed? I had naturally assumed that such a feat was impossible. Apparently I was wrong.

As the sickbay doors slid open, T'Pol cast a quick glance at Hayes but said nothing. The captain also turned his head in that direction, his gaze lingering. I had expected him to be angry or at least surprised. Instead, the captain had a sad, almost haunted look in his eyes. What the hell was going on?

"Ensign Sato." Phlox was standing in front of me, and I suddenly remembered the woman in my arms. "Come along, Hoshi," Phlox said. "You're starting to frighten Lieutenant Reed." He took Hoshi by the shoulders, and I managed to free myself from the fingers gripping my uniform. When I glanced up again, the captain had taken Phlox's place by the biobed.

"You claim to have transported from Enterprise to C9 with McKenzie, Money, Chang and Woods," the captain said.

"I claim to have _attempted_ to transport to C9 with McKenzie, Money, Chang and Woods," I stated for the sake of clarity. "For some reason, I was the only one who reached the station. I don't know what happened to my team." I smiled to myself as I remembered my initial suspicions. "At first, I thought that Commander Tucker was playing a trick on me, but when I couldn't hail Enterprise..."

Archer nodded. We'd been through this already. "Why were you transporting to the station?" he asked.

I shifted and straightened my spine. "We wanted to assess the situation and evacuate any personnel if possible."

"Evacuate?" The captain sounded surprised. We hadn't got this far during our first briefing.

"Yes, sir," I said. "The Klingons were going to attack the station. We had to get everyone out of there."

The captain sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Captain?" I asked cautiously.

"The Klingons attacked C9 before we could intervene," T'Pol said. "Everyone on the station was killed."

"What?" I stared at T'Pol. "But Enterprise..." Then I remembered. Things were different here. I gripped the edge of the biobed. "If you were too late to prevent an attack then why were Major Hayes and his men on the station when I arrived?" I was looking at the captain, but it was T'Pol who chose to answer once again.

"We were hoping to find survivors," she said.

"Or Klingons," Trip muttered darkly.

T'Pol glanced at him, but didn't refute his statement. If the MACOs had been hunting Klingons, it would explain why Hayes had been on the offensive.

"Did you find either?" I asked.

"No," T'Pol said.

Massaging the bridge of his nose, the captain walked away from the biobed.

"We'll find them, Captain," Trip said, obviously referring to the Klingons if the station's inhabitants were dead.

The captain lifted his head and smiled. "I know, Trip." He returned to the biobed and gazed at me speculatively. "What I don't know is how you got here, Malcolm, when you're supposed to be..."

Dead, I thought. You can say the word, Captain.

"...When you're not supposed to be here," he concluded. Then, eyes still fixed on me, he addressed the room in general. "Any thoughts? Theories?" he asked.

Suddenly sickbay was completely silent. Even Phlox's strange assortment of creatures didn't make a sound.

"Anyone?" the captain urged. He looked over his shoulder at T'Pol.

"I am...unwilling to theorize without sufficient data," T'Pol said. "However, based on past experience, I can provide one hypothesis." She crossed her arms and changed her stance, as if physically preparing herself for the task at hand. "It is possible that Lieutenant Reed emerged from a parallel dimension, like the alternate Enterprise we encountered in the Expanse."

I held back a sigh as I remembered the dismal account I had read of my life on the alternate ship. "Well, I'm certainly not from _that_ Enterprise," I said, "though I can understand why you'd think I would escape from there considering how well I fared on that vessel."

My comment earned a grin from Travis, but T'Pol's face remained impassive.

"I was not suggesting that you were from the alternate Enterprise," she said. "As we eliminated the factors that caused it to appear in the first place, _that_ version of Enterprise should no longer exist. I am merely attempting to produce a hypothesis that might adequately explain the facts."

T'Pol moved closer to the biobed and studied me as if I were a baffling conundrum she was determined to solve, or perhaps kill in the process. The captain coughed, and T'Pol altered position again, clasping her hands loosely behind her back.

"As we know," she continued, "Lieutenant Reed is dead and, yet, the man sitting before us is not a clone, replica or imposter of any kind. Although I am reluctant to suggest the possibility of an alternate universe, I can think of no other hypothesis at this time."

I could have sworn that I heard a note of defeat in T'Pol's voice, and I felt a momentary twinge of sympathy for our science officer. However, the captain didn't seem to be suffering from any such symptoms.

"Get on it," he said.

T'Pol raised a perplexed eyebrow. "Captain?"

The captain turned and faced T'Pol. "I want you to find out what happened. How did Lieutenant Reed get here and how...how is it possible for him to be alive?"

T'Pol's eyes moved swiftly from the captain to Phlox, as if she were hoping to appeal to the Denobulan for help. "Captain, I may not be able to supply those answers. I don't know how--"

"Just do your best, T'Pol," the captain said quietly.

"Yes, sir." T'Pol nodded curtly. Then, flicking another glance in my direction, she left sickbay.

The remaining senior staff seemed unsure what to do at first. It was only when the captain remembered his position, and barked an order, that officers snapped to attention.

"Doesn't anyone else around here have work to do?" he demanded.

"Yes, sir," Travis and Hoshi chimed in unison, before making a hasty retreat. As Trip made no move to leave sickbay, he must have either assumed that the order didn't apply to him or was ignoring it altogether. The captain didn't press the issue. In fact, I'm not sure if he even realized that Trip was still there.

"Doctor, is there any more information you can give us?" the captain asked.

Phlox was back at the viewscreen, poring over my scans. "I'll need more time to study the data, Captain," he said. "I'll contact you when I have more conclusive results." He turned to us and smiled. "In the meantime, Lieutenant Reed is free to leave sickbay, though I know how much he'll miss it."

"Thanks," I grumbled.

The Denobulan smile grew even wider. "It's good to have you back, Lieutenant."

I blushed and felt my own lips curving. "Thank you," I said, and the response was sincere.

"Shall we?" The captain was extending his hand towards the exit. I hopped off the biobed eagerly, forgetting all about my brief moment of rapport with Phlox.

"You're welcome to stay as our guest," the captain said, once were outside of sickbay.

As I didn't really have a choice in the matter, I wasn't sure if the captain was being sincere or perfunctory in his role as the gracious host. Then I quashed the thought and scolded myself for being so cynical.

"That would be lovely," I said. "Thank you, sir."

The captain nodded. "Good." His eyes veered away from my face. "We didn't have the heart to re-assign your quarters, so..." He cleared his throat. "Your personal effects were sent to your family, but I'm sure we can provide you with anything you might need."

"Thanks." Suddenly I was having trouble speaking around the lump in my throat. I hadn't even thought of my family. Back in sickbay, I had been able to distance myself from the situation, convince myself that this was happening to someone else. However, I was now facing the actual repercussions of my death.

As if reading my thoughts, the captain said, "For the time being, I would appreciate it if you didn't contact your family. This should probably remain classified until...until we have more information."

"Captain..." I said.

He still wouldn't meet my eyes. "I'll see you later," he whispered. Then he walked away.

Disconcerted by the captain's abrupt departure, I started to follow him, but the pursuit ended when a hand fell on my shoulder.

"It hit the captain pretty hard," Trip said. "Your, uh, death." He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's been hard on all of us."

I didn't know what to say. Should I apologize for being dead? What was one expected to do in a situation like this?

Trip started laughing. "It's okay, Malcolm. It's not your fault." He squeezed my shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you settled in."

***

Despite the captain's awkward behaviour, I was sure that it wouldn't take long for him to accept my sudden reappearance on Enterprise. Then my hopes were cruelly dashed after a meal in the captain's mess that same evening.

At first, the dinner invitation had seemed like an encouraging sign. However, when I sat down at the table, the captain treated me formally, almost coldly, as if I were a diplomat he was being forced to entertain. I wondered if it was just my imagination, or usual brand of paranoia, but then I noticed that T'Pol was studying the captain in concern and Trip was struggling valiantly to keep the conversation going. I ate as quickly as possible and excused myself as soon as my plate was empty, claiming I was tired and thanking the captain once again for the meal. It was a dignified retreat, but a retreat all the same.

I slumped on my bed as soon as I arrived at my quarters and engaged in a good sulk. I had thought about tracking down Hayes, several times, but then I would remember how he had walked out of sickbay and change my mind. I was just playing with the idea of commandeering a shuttlepod and flying to the nearest inhabitable planet when my door chime rang.

My heart began beating in a rapid staccato, and my stomach fluttered nervously as I thought about who might be standing outside my quarters. Steeling myself, I rose from the mattress. I don't know if I was more surprised or disappointed by what I found on the other side of the door.

"Good evening, Lieutenant," Trip said. "We've come to invade your quarters."

My expression must have been less than enthusiastic because he nodded at Travis, who stepped forward with a bottle in each hand. Both bottles were filled with a bright blue liquid that looked suspiciously like Andorian Ale.

"Haven't you ever heard the expression 'Beware of Greeks bearing gifts'?" I asked in amusement.

Trip rolled his eyes. "Do you see any sign of a wooden horse?"

I gazed out into the corridor, craning my neck.

Trip sighed. "We're not Greek."

"Even if we were, it wouldn't matter because the gift isn't from us," Travis said. "It's from the captain."

I stared at the ensign incredulously. "It is?"

"He handed it to me personally," Trip said, clasping me on the shoulder.

For a moment I couldn't speak. Then I cleared my throat. "Well, you'd better come in, then."

Trip grinned and barged into the room, while Travis was polite enough to hand me my gift first. As my quarters didn't have much in the way of dishware or furniture, we sat on the deck and passed around the bottles, sharing the Andorian Ale between us.

Several hours later, I woke to find Trip's nose planted in my back and his arm draped around my waist. I might have complained if I wasn't already scrambling for the head to empty the contents of my stomach. When I stumbled out again a few minutes later, Travis was sitting up and blinking at me in a confused bleary daze. I could see that he had fallen asleep with his right cheek pressed firmly against the deck because his skin carried an impression from the plating. I might have been tempted to laugh if I wasn't feeling so bloody awful.

"Someone please shoot me and put me out of my misery," Trip moaned piteously. He had curled into a foetal position and was cradling his head in both hands. Exchanging a look with Travis, I walked over to the comm and called down to sickbay.

Phlox wasn't overly enthusiastic about the early morning house call, which seemed odd considering that he wasn't in the middle of one of his sleep cycles. Nevertheless, he delivered a lecture on the excesses of Andorian Ale, along with the hypospray, before we made our sorry way to the mess hall in search of very strong coffee.

I couldn't help noticing that people were staring at me, but with the hangover I just couldn't find the energy to care. Besides, I'd seen so many shocked expressions since I'd entered this parallel world that I was growing accustomed to it. I couldn't really blame them. Discovering that your tactical officer had returned from the dead had to be a rather unsettling experience.

After Phlox's hypospray started to take effect, and I began to resemble a sentient being once again, I reported to the captain. However, as the captain was at a complete loss as to what I should do, he suggested that I take some time to reacquaint myself with the crew and, so, I was passed around the ship like some squalling newborn that everyone wished to see but no one wanted to get stuck with for too long.

I kept hoping that I would run into Hayes during my travels, but the man always seemed to be at least one step ahead of me. When I was in the armoury, he was in the gym conducting training exercises. When I was in the gym, Hayes was running weapons tests in the armoury. Then I lost track of him altogether, and none of his men seemed willing to reveal his position. It wasn't until I walked into the mess hall at the end of the day, that I finally found him. Unfortunately, it wasn't under the most ideal circumstances.

I was standing with my supper tray, scanning the mess hall for a place to sit, when I spotted him. He was sitting at a table in the furthest corner of the room, but he wasn't alone. He had Hoshi Sato for company. Their dark heads were close together, and they seemed to be sharing a quiet but intense conversation. Then Hoshi wrapped her fingers around Hayes's hand, and a tiny smile appeared on the MACO's lips. Unable to move, I stared at them, a cold numb feeling spreading over me.

"Lieutenant." Travis was standing beside me. "There's a free table over there," he said.

I didn't know where "over there" was, but I allowed him to guide me to the table in question. It was close to the beverage dispenser, so we didn't have far to go. It was also far enough from another table to ensure that Hayes and Hoshi weren't a constant distraction during my meal, not that it stopped me from casting a furtive glance in their direction as we sat down.

"It's not what you think," Travis said. He was also looking over at their table, and I cursed myself for being so transparent. "I don't know what you've heard, but none of the rumours are true. They're just friends."

I nodded and fought to keep the sarcasm from my voice. "Of course they are."

Travis dropped his fork and glared at me. "Hoshi was really upset when you died. We all were."

"So I keep hearing." I gazed down at the pasta on my plate. Was it linguine or fettucine? I just couldn't tell.

"I think they both felt guilty," Travis said.

I lifted my head sharply. "What?"

"I think they both felt guilty about your death: Hoshi because you died rescuing her, and Major Hayes because he might have been the one to die if he'd led the mission." Travis pierced a stem of broccoli with his fork. "The guilt they shared brought them closer. They formed a bond."

A bond? Hayes and Hoshi? I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh or be sick. Instead, I forced a smile and pushed some of the mystery pasta around on my plate.

"Major Hayes knew you and Hoshi were friends," Travis said, "and he probably noticed how protective you were."

"Protective?" I asked. "I'm not...I'm not any more protective of Hoshi than anyone else on Enterprise."

Travis let loose a loud laugh then started coughing when he almost choked on his chicken. "Sir," he gasped, "you go big brother whenever you're around her!"

"I do not!" I protested.

"Oh, yes you do! Ask anyone on this ship!" Still coughing, Travis gulped down some water. "Once you were gone, I think Major Hayes saw Hoshi as his personal responsibility. He wanted to make sure that someone was looking out for her."

I gritted my teeth and poked at my pasta again. "So Hayes nominated himself for the position of 'big brother'?" I asked.

Travis shrugged. "I guess."

My eyes drifted to Hayes and Hoshi again. "Well, I'm glad Hoshi had someone to turn to." I raised my fork to my lips and finally took a bite of my dinner. I still didn't know what it was, but then I could barely taste it at all.

"You're jealous," Travis said.

"What?" I only just managed to swallow my mouthful of pasta before fixing Travis with an angry scowl. "You think I'm jealous? Of Hayes?" I shook my head in disgust. "I thought I was only playing the part of Hoshi's big brother. Now you want to cast me in the role of her jilted lover?"

Travis smiled, apparently immune to the waves of hostility emanating from the other side of the table. "Who said you were jealous of Major Hayes? I was talking about Hoshi."

"Hoshi? What is that supposed to...?" Then I realized what Travis was saying and felt an intense heat rise in my cheeks. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Could we possibly change the subject now, Ensign?"

***

I had only been in my quarters for five minutes when the door chime rang. I didn't particularly want to see anyone at the moment, especially Travis the merry matchmaker, but I answered the door anyway. To say that I was surprised to see Hoshi enter my quarters would be an understatement.

"Hoshi, what, uh...what can I do for you?"

She didn't say anything for several seconds, and I was afraid she might dissolve into tears again. Then I saw the look on her face and realized that I had bigger concerns.

"Uh, Hoshi...?"

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"At the moment, I'm answering the door." I walked over to my bed and sat down on the mattress. Hoshi remained standing.

"You need to talk to him," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. "By 'him' I take it you mean Major Hayes."

Hoshi's hands were on her hips. "You know I do, Lieutenant."

"Well, I tried to speak to him earlier, but I couldn't find him anywhere." I smoothed a crease in the thin sheet covering the mattress. "He's been avoiding me. In fact, from what I've seen, he's been quite happy with the company he _has_ been keeping."

Hoshi's eyes narrowed. "I don't know what rumours you've heard, but we're just friends." Hoshi seemed sincere and, yet, I couldn't let the issue rest.

"You were never friends on my Enterprise," I said.

To Hoshi's credit, she kept her temper. "It didn't happen until after--"

"Until after I died?" I rolled my eyes. "It's nice to know you were both able to bond after my death."

Hoshi's hands were now fists. "It was grief."

I started in surprise. "Grief?"

"I was grieving the loss of a friend," Hoshi said. "Major Hayes was grieving something more."

My eyes widened. "He-he told you?"

Hoshi smiled, looking smug. "He didn't have to."

"Oh." I suddenly found the deck plating absolutely fascinating. Then Hoshi was sitting beside me.

"Your death really hit him hard," she said. "A lot harder than most people realize." She laid a hand on my arm. "He's hurting."

I felt my chest constrict and I didn't look into Hoshi's eyes.

"He's been trying to learn more about the ship's weapons and the armoury systems," she continued. "Trip says he even asked to read your notes on the EM-barrier."

A desperate laugh erupted from somewhere deep inside me. "So Hayes really was after my job after all."

Hoshi's hand slipped from my arm, and I thought she might storm from my quarters in a huff. The stinging slap across the cheek was rather unexpected.

"You-you..." I had every intention of reminding her that assaulting a superior officer, even a dead one, was a court martial offence, but then I saw those round dark eyes well up in tears and I didn't even have the heart to demote her. Incredibly, I found myself apologizing. "I'm sorry. I-I don't know why I said that. I..."

Hoshi raised a hand. "He was doing it for your men," she said.

I nodded. "Yes, I realize that." Back on my own Enterprise, I had tried to take the MACOs under my wing, hoping to fill the void Hayes had left after he died.

Studying me, Hoshi said, "Major Hayes spends most nights in the armoury."

"Oh, he does, does he?" I had meant to maintain a neutral tone, but I couldn't quite hide the hint of satisfaction in my voice. Of course, the linguist, with her highly sensitive ear, pounced on it at once.

"You could probably find him there right now," Hoshi said.

I couldn't help smiling. "Thanks for the advice. I think I might just do that."

Hoshi smiled in return and rose from the bed. However, when she reached the door, she turned and looked at me. "You better not hurt him. He's been through enough already," she said. Then she hit the wall panel and was gone.

I stared at the door for the longest time after Hoshi left. I had naturally assumed that Hayes had been taking care of Hoshi, but now I was beginning to suspect that it was actually the other way round.

***

"Uh, sir, you might not want to come in here."

I had just stepped through the door, but a quick glance around the armoury didn't indicate any signs of danger. Everything seemed to be locked down and secure. Then Ensign Walsh's eyes flicked over to the man standing on the raised platform in front of the main viewscreen. Although his back was to us, I could tell by the stiff set of the shoulders alone that it was Hayes. I looked back at Walsh, raising a curious eyebrow.

"He's in a bad mood, sir," Walsh said in way of an explanation. "A really bad mood."

"Oh?" I asked. "How can you tell?" I couldn't see Hayes's face, but he seemed calm enough. He wasn't discharging several rounds from his rifle or beating anyone to a pulp. It looked like he was working on one of his battle simulations.

Walsh studied Hayes warily for a moment before addressing me in a whisper. "He scheduled a run for 0500 tomorrow."

"Well, he's done that before, surely?" I knew how rigorous MACO training could be and this didn't exactly sound outside the norm.

"The course is decks B through G," Walsh stated bluntly.

I stared at him incredulously. "Six decks?"

Walsh ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sure he would have made it all seven if the bridge wasn't on A Deck."

My eyebrows rose at Walsh's comment. "What exactly did they do?"

Walsh's eyes shifted nervously to Hayes again. "Apparently Sergeant Kemper told him he looked tired and asked if he was okay."

Ah, I thought. That would do it.

"Everyone is just trying to stay out of his way until he cools down," Walsh said. Then he grimaced. "I'm only here because I have to be."

I fought to keep from laughing. Walsh sounded so serious. "Look, Ensign, why don't you take a break and I'll talk to him?"

Walsh stared at me as if I'd clearly lost my mind. He didn't move a muscle.

"Do I have to make that an order, Ensign?" I asked.

"Uh, no, sir, but--"

This time I allowed myself to smile. "What's the matter? Are you afraid to take orders from a dead man?"

Walsh blushed. "No, sir, of course not," he said. "Not that you _are_ dead. It's just that you and Major Hayes..."

"Yes, Ensign?" I had an idea where this was going, but I wanted to hear what Walsh had to say.

Walsh was looking at Hayes again, and I was surprised that Hayes couldn't feel a prickly sensation on the back of his neck. "You had that fi...sparring match and almost killed each other," Walsh said.

Yes, I thought that might be what this was about. I shrugged and tried to inject some humour in my tone. "I'm already dead. I've got nothing to lose."

"You're not dead! You're just...just..." Walsh seemed genuinely upset, and I suddenly felt guilty for making light of the problem.

I put a hand on his shoulder and managed to steer him towards the door. "Take fifteen minutes, Ensign. Go to the mess hall. Get some coffee."

Walsh resisted, of course. "Sir, I really don't think this is a good idea..."

"We'll be fine. In fact, if I have my way, neither one of us will even be here when you return."

"And if you don't have your way?" Walsh asked. We had reached the door, but he seemed in no hurry to leave.

I sighed. My men could be a downright nuisance when they became overprotective. They always seemed to choose the most inopportune moments. I reached around Walsh and hit the wall panel. Then I gave him an encouraging shove, and Walsh was standing outside in the corridor.

"You can call security or Doctor Phlox, depending on the severity of the situation," I said as the door closed on Walsh's startled face. Then I turned and headed straight for Hayes.

He was still in front of the viewscreen and didn't turn even when my boots thumped on the metal stairs behind him. However, he was forced to acknowledge me when I was standing beside him, so close our shoulders almost touched. His eyes darted to my face briefly. "Lieutenant."

"You've been avoiding me," I said.

He frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, Major. You tell me." I crossed my arms and glared at his profile. His eyes were still glued to the viewscreen.

"I've been busy," Hayes said. "I've been putting together a battle simulation for a Klingon Bird of Prey, based on the information stored in our database." His finger touched the screen and brought up the schematics for a Raptor-Class Bird of Prey. "I've been trying to familiarize myself with their tactical capabilities."

"So you've been running battle simulations all day, have you?" I asked. "No, wait...that can't be right. I stopped by the armoury earlier and you weren't here."

"I do have other responsibilities, so, no, I haven't been running battle simulations all day," Hayes said. He hit the screen again and the schematics disappeared. "If you'll excuse me, Lieutenant..." He turned and made for the stairs. I snatched his arm before he could walk away. I was taking a big risk, but I had to find some way to get through to him.

"I didn't think MACOs allowed cowardice," I said. "I suppose officers are the exception to the rule."

The words had barely made it past my lips before Hayes slammed me down on the control console and pressed an arm against my throat. I winced as various buttons and switches jabbed me in the back, but Hayes didn't seem to notice.

"You're one to talk, you god-damn hypocrite," Hayes hissed. His face was only inches from mine, and there was no mistaking the fury in his eyes. "You're always trying to run away from your feelings. When it comes to your emotions, you're the biggest coward I know."

"Hayes," I gasped, struggling for breath.

He immediately released the pressure from my throat, and I gratefully gulped a lungful of air. I was reaching for the edge of the console to hoist myself back up, when Hayes grabbed the front of my uniform with both hands and hauled me to my feet. I don't know what I expected to happen, but it certainly wasn't Hayes pulling me against his body and attacking me with his lips.

The kiss was hard, almost brutal. I was sure my teeth must have rattled with the force. Then he was prying my lips open with his tongue. I seized it and took it into my mouth. Hayes moaned, his hands clutching me even tighter. If oxygen hadn't been a necessity, I think I could have easily stayed that way all night.

When we did break apart, Hayes was panting and staring at me with wide shocked eyes. I licked swollen lips and moved closer. Hayes turned sharply and ran down the stairs. He was across the armoury and out the door before I could even think to protest. I might have gone after him, but I was too stunned to move.

I don't know how much time passed, but Walsh had climbed the stairs and was standing beside me before I even realized he had returned. "Sir, are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded absently. "Yes, yes, of course."

"With all due respect, sir, you don't look like it," Walsh said.

"What?" Then I noticed that I was leaning heavily against the platform railing. I straightened my posture and smiled. This only seemed to heighten Walsh's anxiety.

"Maybe I should call Doctor Phlox," Walsh said. When I glared at him, he added, "You said I could call sickbay or security, 'depending on the severity of the situation'."

"Yes, but that was only if..." Then I remembered. I had given Walsh those options in the event that I didn't "have my way," and I hadn't. Not by a long shot. I slapped Walsh on the back and hurried down the stairs. "This isn't over yet!"

"Uh, okay, sir," Walsh said.

I grinned at him and he smiled tentatively in return. Then I was hitting the wall panel and heading out of the armoury. Two minutes later, I was outside Hayes's quarters, ringing his door chime.

"Fuck off!" Hayes shouted.

My jaw dropped and I stared at the door, completely staggered. Under any other circumstances, I might have walked away, but I needed to see him. He wasn't acting like himself at all, and it was beginning to scare me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then I was overriding the security code on his door.

His back was to me when I entered. He had stripped off his uniform jacket and was wearing his t-shirt. He was leaning against the bulkhead, one hand splayed on the cool metal. His other hand was hanging at his side, clenched in a fist.

"I told you to fuck off," he spat.

"Yes, I heard you," I said. "I think everyone on this deck heard you."

I studied his back for a moment then moved towards him. He flinched when I put a hand on his shoulder, but didn't resist when I spun him around to face me. His eyes were red and I knew it was more than just tiredness. They had been bloodshot in the armoury, but now they were much too shiny.

"You've been crying," I said.

"MACOs don't cry," Hayes snapped. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was staring down at the ground. I pulled him into my arms and held him tightly. He slowly relaxed into the embrace, and I cupped the back of his head, drawing it down to my shoulder.

"It hurts," he whispered.

"I know, luv." I began to stroke his hair and he seemed to relax further. "Is there anything I can do to make it better?" I asked.

I heard and felt a muffled laugh against my shoulder. "Yeah," Hayes said. "Don't leave me again."

I stepped back so that I could look at Hayes. I reached out and touched one cheek with my fingers. My lips followed and soon I was kissing every possible trace of a tear. Then Hayes was pushing me away. I gazed at him curiously, only understanding when he gripped my arms and kissed me in return.

"I want you to make love to me," he said.

I smiled even as I shook my head. "That's probably not the best idea."

"I know it isn't, but I really don't care." He took my zipper and pulled it down. Peeling my uniform from my shoulders, he leaned forward and nuzzled my neck. I was reaching for the hem of his t-shirt as he began to lick at the hollow of my throat. I only managed to work the t-shirt halfway up Hayes's back, before he was nibbling on my collarbone. I gasped and nearly lost my grip. In the end, I gave up on removing the t-shirt and ran my palms under the fabric instead.

It was so wonderful to be able to touch him again, to feel the warmth of his skin and have him alive and breathing under my hands. Then I remembered the last time I had seen him on my Enterprise, lying still and lifeless on a biobed. I swallowed painfully as tears threatened to spill. Hayes must have felt the movement of my throat because he pulled away.

"Hey, don't you start." He smiled softly and brushed his fingers against my cheek.

"I'm sorry," I said. "It's just that..."

"Yeah, I know." Hayes rested his forehead against mine, and we stood like that for a moment. Then he sought out my lips, and we kissed each other hungrily. I seized his t-shirt again and finally succeeded in tugging it over his head. Hayes pulled my jumpsuit down to my hips and stripped off both my shirt and undershirt. As he trailed his fingers over my chest, I stroked his cock through his trousers. He moaned and, grabbing the empty sleeves of my jumpsuit, he towed me to his bed.

When we reached the bed, Hayes yanked back the sheets. Then he shoved me down on the mattress and knelt down to pull off my boots. As he bent his head, I heard his neck joints pop. I put a hand on his shoulder, and Hayes raised his head, causing his neck to crack.

"All right, come on." I gripped Hayes's arm and pulled him to his feet.

"What?" Hayes said.

Taking his place on the deck, I unlaced his boots. Throwing me a confused look, Hayes stepped out of them. I managed to resist the temptation that hovered at eye level and stood up. I unbuckled his belt, removing the rest of his clothes quickly. He tried to catch a hold of my uniform but I evaded him.

"Lie down on your stomach," I said.

A smile spread across Hayes's lips and he stretched out on the bed. I took off my boots and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Then I leaned across him and began to massage the muscles in his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Hayes asked.

"Your muscles are all in knots. I'm trying to help you relieve some tension." I pressed the heels of my hands between his shoulder-blades and Hayes groaned. "What on earth have you done to yourself? You're an absolute mess."

Hayes didn't answer, only wriggled his shoulders as I hit a particularly sore ligament. I suddenly recalled my conversation with Walsh in the armoury.

"Hayes, how much sleep did you get last night?"

Hayes shifted again and sighed. "Not a wink," he said.

I stared at his back for an instant then shook my head. "You should have come to me."

Hayes twitched. "I did. You already had company."

My hands went still. "What?" Then I remembered what had happened last night. "Oh."

"I could hear the three of you through the door," Hayes said. "Unlike you, I didn't have the benefit of drinking myself into oblivion last night."

I rubbed his back experimentally. When he didn't protest, I began to massage his shoulders again. I still couldn't read his mood and wished I could see his face.

"John..."

Hayes's head whipped around, and we both winced when we heard another crack from his joints. My hands moved to his neck and began to knead it gently. Hayes lowered his head back on his pillow.

"Is it all right if I call you by your first name?" I asked. "It just seems a bit silly to keep calling you 'Major' or 'Hayes' when...when we're together. Besides, you call me 'Malcolm'." I couldn't see why he'd have any objections, but as the silence stretched on I began to fear that I'd overstepped some boundary. Then Hayes glanced back at me and I didn't see any anger in his expression.

"Just don't call me 'John,' okay?" he said. "You can call me--"

"Matt? That's what your friends called you at--" I froze when I realized what I'd been about to say. Not only was I a complete and utter idiot but a heartless bastard as well.

Hayes rolled over on his back and gazed up at me questioningly. "My funeral? Is that what you were going to say?" I bit my lip and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He took my hand and squeezed it. "I'm glad you were there. It means a lot to me." He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles. I drew in a sharp breath when his tongue licked the skin between the joints. "I hope you don't mind, but I went to your funeral too."

"You-you did?" Surprisingly, I hadn't even considered my funeral. I had been too busy convincing everyone that I wasn't dead.

"It was very nice," Hayes said. "You were buried at sea."

"Really? That's wonderful!" I was happy my family had carried out my wishes. I was afraid my father might have refused because I hadn't joined the Navy. "What kind of vessel did they use?" I asked. "Was it a Navy or civilian craft?"

Hayes snorted, no doubt amused by my excitement. "Civilian. I don't know what kind. Ships aren't exactly my specialty. I think your sister told the captain that it was the boat you learned to sail in."

I felt my eyes well up and had to clear my throat before I could speak. "That's lovely. I'm sure if I'd been really dead, I would have...Well, I suppose if I'd been really dead, I wouldn't have cared one way or the other. Still--"

Hayes clapped a hand over my mouth. "Do you think we could stop discussing our funerals? Besides being morbid, it's really starting to creep me out." I nodded and he removed his hand. His eyes shifted down to his penis. "It's also killing what's left of the mood." He leered at me and, as far as I was concerned, the mood wasn't suffering at all. "You never finished that massage," he said, "though I know you only suggested it in the first place so you'd have an excuse to stare at my butt."

I laughed as he lay down on his stomach. "Yes, that was my motive all along." I spread my hands over his back and resumed the massage.

"Hmm...thought so," Hayes said. Then he groaned. "Oh, right there. Don't stop." My hands had started to work the junction of muscles between his shoulders and neck. Hayes snuggled deeper into his pillow. "You keep this up and I'm gonna fall asleep," he murmured.

I frowned. Usually my massages had the opposite effect. One lover had even gone so far as to describe them as being erotic. No one had ever described them as being sleep-inducing. I suppose that's why it came as a complete surprise when Hayes's breathing grew heavier and he actually did drift off.

"Oh, you have got to be joking." I shook my head and gazed down at the sleeping MACO. It seemed cruel to wake him, but there he was, lying on the bed, in all his naked glory. I licked my lips as I drank in the sight of his broad muscular back and the firm but supple flesh of his perfect bum. Suddenly I wanted to do more than just touch him.

I sniffed the nape of his neck and caught the faint trace of soap and sweat. It wasn't anything remarkable and, yet, it was remarkable because it was Hayes's skin and Hayes's scent. My tongue flicked out and I tasted his flesh. Hayes didn't move. My tongue grew bolder. It licked a path down Hayes's spine, travelling between his shoulder-blades and down his back. This time Hayes stirred and moaned softly. That was my undoing.

Gazing down at Hayes longingly, I swiped my tongue further down his spine and between the cheeks of his bum. Hayes jerked awake and, propping himself up on one hand, threw a wild look over his shoulder.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" he shouted. "What was that?"

I glanced back at him with all the innocence I could muster. "Sorry? What was what?"

"That-that thing with your tongue!" Hayes sputtered.

"Oh, _that_. Didn't you like that?" I asked. I knew I wasn't playing fair, but I couldn't quite manage to keep the hurt tone out of my voice. Hayes reacted to it immediately.

"No, it's not that," he said. "It's just that-that...Why did you do that?"

"You fell asleep. It seemed the kindest way to rouse you."

Hayes choked back a laugh. "'Rouse' me?"

"Hmm...maybe 'arouse' would be a more accurate description." I grinned and leaned over his bum, my tongue darting through the crack. Hayes hissed and pulled away, ending up on all fours. I instantly went hard at the sight of him.

"Look there are certain places where you shouldn't stick your tongue, Malcolm," Hayes said.

I shook my head. Americans could be such prudes. I was about to say as much when I noticed that Hayes wasn't as disinterested as he claimed. "Your little friend doesn't seem to disapprove," I said. I grabbed Hayes's cock and he gasped. Draping myself across his back, I whispered, "What if I were to stick something else in there? Would that be all right?"

He became fully erect and I felt a minute tremor go through him.

"Jolly good," I said. I nipped his right ear lightly and sat back on the mattress.

"Do you want me to stay like this?" Hayes asked. He sounded nervous but also excited.

"Oh, yes, absolutely. I don't want you to move a muscle until I tell you," I said. Then I reconsidered. "Well, maybe this one." I squeezed Hayes's cock, causing him to whimper. "Do you have any lube?"

"The head. It's in the--"

"Don't worry, Matt. I'll find it." I smacked his bottom and withdrew to the head with all due haste.

I found the object of my search at the very back of his medicine cabinet. It was almost as if he had buried it there because he thought he'd never use it again and, yet, he hadn't been able to chuck it out. I know that lately I'd only held on to mine for sentimental reasons. At that moment, I decided we both deserved better.

"Did you find it?" Hayes called from the other room.

I smiled and left the head, stripping off the remainder of my clothes as I did so. The mattress dipped as I knelt behind Hayes. He tossed a look over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on my body. I rubbed gentle circles on his back. I wanted to be sure that he was completely relaxed before I carried this any further.

"I'm going to fall asleep again if you don't hurry up, Malcolm," Hayes said. He wiggled his bum impatiently, and I took that as a sign to progress to the next step.

I unscrewed the lid from the lube and squirted some on to my fingers. When I had smoothed some lube over Hayes's anus, I worked a finger through the hole and began to coat the inside. Hayes released a ragged breath and opened his legs wider.

"More," he said.

I added a second finger and a third, coaxing the ring of muscle to loosen. When Hayes cried out, I knew I had found his prostate.

"Now, Malcolm. Do it now. I want you inside me now."

Curious to discover what other reactions I might provoke, I stroked his prostate again. His body jerked and I heard a loud whimper.

"Jesus, Malcolm! Please! I can't take it any more!" His whole body was trembling and I knew he was close to the edge. My own cock was painfully hard and I ached to be inside of him. I removed my fingers and applied some lubricant to my penis, hissing through my teeth as the cool gel made contact with my flesh.

"Big baby," Hayes said. He was peeking over his shoulder at me, smiling at my discomfort. The smile faded away when I gripped his hips and pressed against him. His head rolled back around and hung between his shoulders. I pushed my cock against his anus and slowly sought entrance. I closed my eyes as I felt that tight exquisiteness surround me. By the time I made it through the sphincter, Hayes was panting beneath me. When I was completely sheathed inside his body, I gave him a moment to adjust to the intrusion. Then I rocked my hips and started to thrust.

"Yes, that's it!" Hayes gasped. "God, yes, Malcolm!"

My fingers clamped on his hips and I drove in even harder, trying to hit his prostate. Sweat was running down my face now and all I could hear from Hayes was one long continuous moan. Then the moan turned into a sob and he climaxed, his muscles clamping down on my penis. I threw back my head and shouted as a wave of pure pleasure ripped through me. Riding out the orgasm, I thrust a few more times.

No longer able to support our combined weight, Hayes collapsed on his stomach. I could feel his back heaving as he fought for breath. I planted a kiss on the back of his neck and pulled out of him. I had barely draped the sheets over us, when we both fell into a profound and very sated slumber.

***

My sleepy brain couldn't register what the sound was at first. When I realized what it was, I nudged Hayes in the ribs. He grunted and the arm wrapped around my chest loosened. I reached over and switched on the lights.

"Someone's at the door," I whispered.

"What?" The chime rang again and Hayes sat up, blinking at the door. "Crap." He scrambled out of bed and picked his boxers up from the deck. I grabbed the rest of our clothing and made ready to bolt inside the head if the need arose.

A female voice filtered through the intercom. "Major?"

Hopping across the deck, Hayes managed to pull on his boxers and reach the wall comm. "Cole, what the hell time is it?" he asked.

"0526, sir," Cole said.

Hayes glanced at me, apparently checking whether Cole had said what he thought she'd said. With a confused shake of his head, he turned back to the comm. "Is there a problem, Corporal?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing, sir," Cole said.

Hayes's forehead furrowed. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation, when a look of understanding flashed across his face. He winced and closed his eyes. That was all it took for me to remember the run he had scheduled for 0500.

"I'm sorry," Hayes said. "I must have overslept."

Cole's voice was one of sheer disbelief. "Overslept?"

I pressed my lips together, trying desperately not to laugh.

Hayes leaned his head against the bulkhead. "Yes, Corporal. Overslept."

There was a long lull on Cole's side of the comm. "Sir, are you okay?" Cole asked. She actually sounded frightened.

I dropped the clothes and dashed inside the head, collapsing in an explosive burst of laughter. I was clutching at the sink weakly, trying to pull myself up from the floor, when the door swished open and Hayes stood glaring at me.

"It's not funny," he said.

I lost my hold on the sink and flopped back on the floor as I was assaulted by another fit of laughter.

Hayes was frowning, his hands on his hips. "It's not funny, Reed."

"I'm sorry but it _is_ funny." I brushed the tears from my eyes with the back of my hands. "So has the run been cancelled?"

"No," Hayes said, "I told Cole to conduct the exercise without me and that I would join them when..." Hayes's eyes narrowed. "How did you know about the run?"

I grinned at him. "Walsh told me."

"Walsh? How did he know?" Hayes demanded.

I shrugged. "One of your men must have told him. My money's on Kemper. He's the reason you scheduled the run in the first place, isn't he?"

Hayes scowled but I noticed that he made no attempt to deny the accusation. Instead, he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me off the ground. Then he shoved me into the shower stall.

"What are you doing?" I asked. I had my answer when Hayes activated the shower and I was doused with icy cold water. I tried to escape but Hayes blocked the exit. He was forced to shout to be heard above the pounding spray and flood of obscenities.

"Shut up, Lieutenant. You need to shower and get dressed. I told Cole you'd be joining us."

***

"Well, aren't you looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," Trip said. He set his breakfast tray on the table, and I rolled my eyes at him over my Earl Grey.

"Shut up." My legs felt like rubber and I knew my calf muscles would be burning once full sensation returned to my limbs.

"Six decks, huh?" Trip smiled and lifted a fork full of scrambled eggs to his lips.

I gritted my teeth. "Yes, six decks," I said. And there had been. Although we had missed the first three decks, and didn't join his men until Deck D, Hayes had insisted that we cover the decks we missed. For some reason we weren't allowed to use the lifts to move from deck to deck, which had seemed incredibly unfair considering that the other MACOs were no longer watching. I nearly said as much to Trip when I was distracted by camouflage.

Romero and Chang were walking past us as they headed for a free table. Although they were speaking in hushed voices, we heard every word.

"You think he's cracking up because he overslept?" Chang asked. "The man's human. Cut him some slack."

"No, he's Hayes," Romero said. "He doesn't do human. And he doesn't oversleep. And you saw what he was like yesterday. He's a time bomb waiting to go off. Any day now he's gonna blow."

I took a sip of tea, trying to conceal my satisfied smirk. Trip caught it instantly. When I lowered my mug, he was staring at me, his eating utensils hanging limply from his hands.

I stared back. "What?"

Trip lowered his cutlery on the table. "I tried looking for you last night. You weren't in your quarters."

Oh hell. I took another sip of tea. "So I wasn't in my quarters. It's a big ship."

"I guess you would know having run around most of it," Trip said.

I nodded vigorously. "Yes, it's a very big ship. A...a bloody big ship. I...I could have been anywhere." I set my mug down on the table carefully, certain it would break if I held it any longer.

Trip was smiling. "Yeah, it's a big ship all right and you could have been anywhere. That's why I searched for you using the computer."

"Oh," I said. I think the colour must have drained from my face because I felt Trip's fingers wrap around my wrist.

"It's okay, Malcolm," he whispered. "I've suspected for a while now and I think it's great. Really. I have no problems with it." The grip on my wrist tightened. "Please breathe, Malcolm. You're starting to scare me. Yeah, that's it. In and out. In and out." Trip pushed my mug towards me with his free hand. "Here. Drink some more tea. It will make you feel better." He seemed to relax when I accepted the tea. He released my wrist and I drained the mug entirely.

"Is there anyone on this ship who doesn't know?" I asked. I was trying to lighten the mood more than satisfy my own curiosity but Trip, as always, was ready with an answer.

"Sure," he said. "Lots of people." Then he lowered his voice. "Most of the crew think that Hayes is involved with Hoshi anyway."

I fixed Trip with my coldest glare, but he only laughed. "Hey, you should be grateful."

"Yes, yes, I know," I muttered. I stared longingly at my mug, wishing I hadn't finished my tea. Trip had returned to his scrambled eggs. He was raising his fork to his mouth, when a grin broke across his face. He dropped the fork and muffled what was obviously laughter behind his hand.

"What?" I demanded.

Trip shook his head. "Nothing, nothing."

I gazed at Trip sternly. "Commander."

"No, really, Malcolm. It's nothing." Trip was still hiding that grin of his behind his hand.

"Go on," I said. "Just say it. Whatever it is just spit it out."

Trip dropped the hand from his mouth, but he was still struggling to keep a straight face. "Umm...Well, I was wondering how you guys decide who goes on top," he whispered. "I mean, do you duke it out first or--?"

I grabbed Trip's fork and rapped him on the knuckles.

"Oww!" Trip cried.

"Am I interrupting?"

Both our heads swivelled around at the question. T'Pol was standing beside our table, raising one eyebrow quizzically.

I put the fork down and smiled at her politely. "No, not at all."

T'Pol's eyes shifted to my face. "Lieutenant, I was hoping I might speak to you."

Trip picked up his tray and stood. "Well, I think that's my cue to go."

T'Pol took a step towards Trip. "Commander, I wasn't implying that you should leave. I was going to ask Lieutenant Reed if I could speak to him later, at a more convenient time."

"No, no, it's okay," Trip said. He craned his neck and nodded at someone on the other side of the mess hall. "I see Hess sitting over there all on her lonesome. I wanted to discuss the latest engine diagnostics with her. I have a feeling the captain's going to be pushing the ship pretty hard when we track down those Klingons, and I want to make sure everything is in peak condition." Trip beamed at T'Pol then made his way to Hess's table. I gestured to the chair Trip had just vacated, and T'Pol sat down.

"As you will recall, the captain asked me to discover...what happened," T'Pol said.

"What happened?" I didn't understand.

T'Pol folded her hands on the table and leaned closer. "How you ended up on this ship, Lieutenant."

I stared at her blankly for a second then understood. I had almost forgotten that I didn't belong here, that I was only a visitor.

"I have been testing various hypotheses in an attempt to explain this phenomenon," T'Pol said.

Phenomenon, I thought. Is that what you'd call it? It didn't seem like a phenomenon to me. It seemed perfectly natural. I wasn't a stranger here. This was my ship and these people were my crewmates and friends.

"Lieutenant?" T'Pol was watching me curiously. I had tuned her out completely.

I shook my head. "Sorry. You were saying?"

T'Pol hesitated a moment before repeating herself. "As I was saying, I have yet to develop a theory to explain...your presence here."

"Oh. I see." I felt an immense surge of relief. I glued my eyes to the table, trying not to betray myself, but it was already too late.

"You don't want to leave," T'Pol said.

My head jerked up and I looked directly in her eyes. I usually found them dark and inscrutable but, at that instant, I thought I saw a hint of understanding, perhaps even compassion.

"No," I said, suddenly realizing the truth. "I don't."

***

Even after T'Pol left the mess hall, I was still dwelling on our conversation. She had given voice to what had lurked deep in my subconscious, a forbidden desire I hadn't dared to express or acknowledge. I think I must have known on some level before T'Pol had pointed out the truth. The tiny seed of knowledge may have first germinated when Hayes kissed me in the armoury, or perhaps it had been when I first wrapped my arms around him. I suspect it was on C9 when he mistook me for a Klingon and attacked.

I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay and damn the consequences.

I set my second mug of tea down slowly as I was faced with the enormity of the situation. I was transgressing laws that were by all rights immutable. I was thumbing my nose at God and the universe by attempting to exist in a world that wasn't mine. Yet, Daniels and other temporal agents interfered with the course of history when they believed it was necessary. The captain himself had travelled back to 2004 with T'Pol to track down three Xindi-Reptilians in Detroit, Michigan. However, the captain had also been trapped in the 31st century, and the entire ship had been transported to a World War II universe after he had destroyed the Xindi weapon. I had witnessed firsthand what could happen when one tampered with time. More often than not, it resulted in serious repercussions.

Still deeply engrossed in thought, I rose from my chair. My next move should have been to leave the mess hall. How I found myself standing outside the captain's mess, ringing his door chime, I still don't know.

"Malcolm!" the captain said. He was obviously amazed to see me showing up at his door unannounced, but he didn't seem annoyed by the intrusion. He smiled and invited me inside with a friendly wave of his hand. "I was just finishing off my coffee before heading to the bridge, but I think I can spare you a few minutes."

Not knowing what else to do, I sat down at his table and said, "I would appreciate it. Thank you, sir."

The captain nodded and took a sip of coffee. "So, what can I do for you, Malcolm?"

"Well," I began. "I...That is to say..." I closed my mouth as a terrifying thought flitted into my brain. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to say.

"Malcolm?" The captain was waiting patiently, a gentle smile on his lips.

I wished I could lay everything before him, but I knew that if I tried to speak my thoughts aloud the captain would think I'd gone mad. Even if I could express what I was feeling, I couldn't tell him the entire truth. This wasn't my secret alone and I had no right to share it without discussing the matter with Hayes first.

"Malcolm?" The captain's smile was gone and he was wearing a confused, almost pained, expression in its place. It would seem that I had been missed during that brief sojourn outside my body.

I sat straighter in my chair, hoping the change in posture would lend me a more professional air. Then my brain shifted back into gear, and I knew exactly what to say. "I need to be assigned some work, Captain. I hardly expect to resume my original duties, but I would like to be doing something useful."

The captain's expression instantly cleared, and I could hear his sigh as he released the breath he'd been holding. "I think that can be arranged. How would you feel about manning the tactical station?" I was about to give him an answer when the comm beeped. The captain reached for the panel behind his head to answer it. "Archer," he said.

T'Pol's voice burst through the comm. "Captain, our scanners have picked up a Klingon Bird of Prey orbiting a moon on the edge of this system. It matches the description of the rebel ship."

"I'll be right there." The captain turned to address me, but I was already out of my chair and heading for the door. Only a quiet laugh halted me in my tracks. "I'll take that as a yes, then," the captain said.

***

We had barely stepped out of the lift when the captain started firing questions at T'Pol.

"Is the Klingon ship still circling that moon?"

"Yes, Captain. We're nine million kilometres away and closing." T'Pol moved swiftly to her station as the captain approached his chair.

"What's our ETA?" the captain asked.

T'Pol exchanged a quick glance with Travis. "Approximately 17 minutes at our current course and speed."

The captain finally allowed himself to sit back in his chair. "Looks like you picked the perfect time to join us, Malcolm," he said.

"Yes, sir." I nodded at Ensign Van der Post as she stepped into the lift. She had relinquished the tactical station as soon as she'd spotted me on the bridge, as if I were still the armoury officer and not some ghost from the past. Perhaps I wasn't as out of place on this ship as I'd originally suspected.

I looked across the bridge and was met by Hoshi's knowing smile. Then T'Pol was regarding us both with a raised eyebrow, so I concentrated on the job at hand. By the time we reached the Bird of Prey, I knew the ship had been under fire.

"They must have run into some trouble along the way," I said to the captain. "Their shields are down by nearly 40 percent and the head section took on some damage. The port disruptor cannon seems to be disabled."

"If the Bird of Prey has taken damage to its head section, it could explain why the ship isn't cloaked," T'Pol added. She turned her attention back to her screen and her forehead furrowed.

"What is it?" the captain asked.

T'Pol raised her eyes from the screen. "Captain, I'm only detecting one biosign."

"One biosign? Are you sure?" T'Pol gave the captain a look, and he smiled sheepishly. "Yes, of course you're sure." Covering up his embarrassment, he quickly focused on Hoshi. "Hail them," he said.

Hoshi nodded and went to work at once. When she frowned and tapped the instrument in her ear, the captain knew she had been unsuccessful. He sighed and hit the comm button on his chair.

"Archer to Hayes."

"Go ahead, Captain," Hayes said.

"We've located the Bird of Prey. Assemble a boarding party and meet me in the transporter room."

"Yes, sir."

The captain ended the transmission and rose from his chair. I couldn't keep silent any longer.

"Captain, I should be going with you," I said.

"No!" The single word was as sharp as a whip, and I found myself flinching accordingly. Then the captain forced a laugh. "You just got here, Malcolm. I can't believe you want to leave already." He walked over to my station and leaned against the railing in what might have been a casual gesture, if the man hadn't born an uncanny resemblance to a coiled wire.

I crossed my arms over my chest and fixed him with a stony glare. "With all due respect, sir, I've had more experience with Klingons than Major Hayes. I really think--"

"I need you at tactical." The captain was gripping the railing so tightly, that his knuckles were white. It was the only thing that kept him on his feet when we were hit by a disruptor blast. When the ship stopped shaking, he whirled around to face T'Pol. "I thought you said there was only one biosign!"

T'Pol gazed back at the captain calmly. "There _is_ only one biosign."

My eyes shifted to the screen at my console and I didn't like what I saw. "They're charging weapons again!"

"Fire torpedoes," the captain said. "Take out their remaining disruptor cannon if you can."

"I'll do my best." My fingers flew over my console, and I fired off a torpedo. It impacted against the starboard wing, but missed the cannon. The second try was successful, and the next torpedo hit its mark. When I raised my eyes, I found the captain looking at me.

"I need you at tactical," the captain repeated.

Although the Bird of Prey had nearly been rendered helpless, I had no choice but to agree with the captain. I sighed grimly. "Aye, sir."

For a split second, the captain looked relieved. Then he nodded and headed for the lift. "T'Pol," he called over his shoulder, "you're in command."

***

I lay on my bed staring pensively at the ceiling. I was angry and frustrated. While the boarding party had beamed on to the Bird of Prey to face a hostile enemy, I had sat at the tactical station twiddling my thumbs. I hadn't even had the chance to fire off a torpedo.

Once on board the Bird of Prey, the team quickly confirmed that T'Pol's readings were correct. In fact, there was only one Klingon on the entire ship. The other rebels had hitched a lift on a Tellarite cargo ship, the same ship that had inflicted damage to the Bird of Prey during a rather unpleasant confrontation. The cargo ship had emerged unscathed, but the crew had been no match for the Klingons that had beamed on board. As the rebels seized control of the Tellarite vessel, the one remaining crewmember, Khoran, remained on the disabled Bird of Prey to act as a decoy and buy time for his friends.

Khoran put up a valiant struggle despite the fact that he was facing a Starfleet captain and three MACOs. He adopted a defensive position on the bridge and, lurking in the shadows, launched a surprise attack. First Khoran took out Kemper, smashing his fist into the unsuspecting MACO's face. Chang managed to raise his pulse rifle before Khoran wrenched it from his hands and bashed him on the side of the head. Then Money kicked the pulse rifle from Khoran's grasp, before she and Hayes tackled the Klingon and pinned him to the ground.

Wielding a phase pistol, the captain investigated the bridge for any other nasty surprises. Passing a viewscreen, he found one. Although the captain didn't speak Klingon, he recognized a countdown sequence when he saw one. He whipped out his communicator and put in a frantic call to Enterprise. Seconds before the Bird of Prey exploded, Trip beamed everyone off the ship. Last I heard the captain and Hayes were still interrogating Khoran.

I sat up with a groan and reached for the book Hoshi had lent me at supper. However, my mind kept wandering and I found it impossible to concentrate. After reading the same paragraph six times, I was forced to admit defeat. I deactivated the padd and stood. I was hoping that a walk might clear my head. I had just made it across the room when the door chime rang.

I hit the wall panel to admit my visitor. The door had barely swished open, when Hayes took me by the shoulders and slammed me against the bulkhead. I sputtered at him in outrage and tried to think what I might have done to piss him off. Then Hayes pressed his lips against mine, and I realized that he wasn't looking for a fight.

Feeling at a distinct disadvantage, I grabbed him by the hips and shoved my tongue in his mouth. He moaned and wrapped his arms around me. We were pressed so closely together, that his belt buckle was digging into my stomach. I had just started to see spots before my eyes, when Hayes nipped at my bottom lip playfully and tore himself away.

I slumped against the bulkhead, gasping for breath. "Well, hello!"

"Hi," Hayes said. He smiled at me almost shyly, and I wondered if I might possibly be losing my mind.

"What brought all this on?" I asked. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but, uh...wow."

Hayes's smile blossomed into something resembling a grin. "I kicked some Klingon butt!" he said.

"Oh?" Then I noticed the cut over his eye and the bruise that was forming on one cheek. He always did seem to have a problem keeping his left up. "I take it our friend tried to make a run for it," I said.

Hayes nodded. "The captain threatened to contact the Klingon High Council, and Khoran went nuts. I tried to stop him when I saw he was going to bolt, and he punched me in the face."

I tutted sympathetically. "Bad Klingon."

"Oh, I don't know," Hayes said. "I think you would have liked him. He certainly seemed impressed by your Klingon move."

"You used my Klingon move on him?" I think my eyes must have lit up because Hayes actually laughed.

"Does that turn you on, Malcolm?" he asked. His voice had turned husky, and I went a little weak in the knees.

"Yes, actually, it does." I saw no point in denying it.

"Hmm." Hayes seemed to appreciate my honesty. He suddenly closed the distance between us and started to run his hands across my chest.

"So you used my Klingon move on him?" I was determined to hear the rest of the story despite Hayes's attempt to distract me.

"Technically, it isn't _your_ Klingon move," Hayes said. "You told me it was something you 'picked up'."

I snorted. "You're worse than a Vulcan."

"In what way?" Hayes licked my neck, and my breath caught in my throat. "Khoran couldn't get past the men I posted at the door, though it certainly wasn't through lack of trying. Saunders is still in sickbay." Hayes began playing with the zipper on my uniform. "Fortunately, I managed to reach Khoran before he could inflict any more injuries on my men. I took him by surprise when I threw in your Klingon move. He was so shocked, that he kind of just lay there, staring up at me. He didn't even put up a struggle when we returned him to his chair." Hayes pulled down my zipper, his hand working its way inside my uniform.

"Did-did he tell you what you wanted to know?" I asked. Hayes's hand was under my shirt now. My eyes slipped shut as he reached out to stroke a nipple.

"The captain had to carry out his threat to contact the Klingon High Council," Hayes said. "In the end, it was Ambassador Torak who convinced Khoran to talk. Khoran's friends are planning to attack the human settlement on Ithacus. We're hoping we can intercept them before that happens."

"And then?" I was finding it increasingly difficult to focus with Hayes nuzzling my neck.

"As there might be Tellarite hostages, and the Klingon High Council wants the rebels to be returned to Kronos for trial, we're hoping to subdue the rebels using peaceful measures," Hayes said. "If we manage to intercept them before they reach the settlement, we'll beam aboard their ship and arrest them. They've got a head start, but the captain says that Enterprise should be faster than a Tellarite cargo ship." Hayes moved from my neck and began nibbling my ear.

"Do we-ahhhh-know when...?"

"Not before tomorrow." Hayes bit down on my earlobe and I gasped.

"Does a successful interrogation always make you this randy?" I asked.

Hayes pulled away for a second, and I felt my pulse quicken at the hungry look in his eyes. "Pretty much, yes," he said. He grabbed me by the front of my uniform and pushed me towards the bed. "I want to claim you. I want you to beg for mercy when I take you. I want to see you lose control." I felt my legs hit the bed, and then Hayes shoved me down on the mattress. "I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel last night. Do you think I might do that, Malcolm?"

I nodded furiously, unable to produce a verbal response.

"I want to make love to you," Hayes whispered. Then his hands were on me again and he was stripping me out of my uniform. I tried to reach for him, but he batted my hands away. "Uh uh. This is my show. I make the rules." He took the tube of lubricant out of his trouser pocket, and my cock grew painfully hard. When Hayes touched the tip, it was more agonizing than pleasurable.

I had never allowed anyone to exert this degree of control over me before and, yet, here I was lying stretched out on the bed, naked and vulnerable, as a fully-clothed man loomed over me.

"Is this okay?" Hayes asked.

I closed my eyes and nodded. "Yes."

When I felt the mattress dip, I was filled with both excitement and apprehension. I was breathing more heavily now, and Hayes had barely touched me. Then he gripped my knees, and my eyes flew open.

"You need to open your legs, Malcolm." Not waiting for an invitation, Hayes ripped my legs apart. I thought my cock had been as hard as it could get, but I was mistaken.

A whimper pushed its way past my throat. "Hayes."

"Call me Matt," he said. Then he pushed a finger into my anus. My head thumped back against the mattress, and sweat broke out on my forehead. Hayes ran his free hand down one of my trembling thighs. "I don't think I've seen anyone look so hot in my life."

I breathed out a laugh. "You must be kidding."

"No," Hayes said. "I'm really not." He pressed another finger into my anus, and my heels dug into the mattress. "Shh...relax, Malcolm." He started to wriggle both fingers, and I moaned helplessly. By the time he added a third finger, I was babbling incoherently. I nearly came undone when one of the fingers brushed against my prostate.

"Oh, God," I said. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, please, please, Matt. Please!" Hayes removed his fingers slowly. Panting, I managed to force my eyes open. Hayes was unbuckling his belt and pulling down his fly. However, he made no other effort to remove his clothing. "But-but you're still dressed. You can't--"

He put a finger to my lips. "The hell I can't." Hayes's penis jutted out stiffly. I swallowed convulsively at the sight.

"At least remove your boots," I said. "The bed--"

"I don't care about the bed." As if to demonstrate his point, Hayes climbed on top of me, boots and all. When I tried to pull off his t-shirt, he grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head. "I'm in charge," he growled.

Hayes's clothing felt strange against my bare skin. This time I could feel the cool metal of his belt buckle as it jabbed me. I shivered at the contact.

"Be a good boy, Malcolm, and I'll give you a treat," Hayes said. I could feel his cock against my anus. Then he began to push into me slowly. I spread my legs even further apart and bore down on Hayes's cock as it breached my sphincter. Hayes moaned against my collarbone. "Oh, very good boy. Very good boy."

He seemed content to lie there for the moment, bestowing kisses on me, but I jerked my pelvis and allowed my muscles to squeeze down on his penis. Hayes lifted his head from my chest with a gasp.

"Oh, you want to play it like that, do you?" His voice was rough, and his grip on my wrists had grown tighter. He thrust into me, hard, and my head tossed back against the mattress. He kept up the pace as he drove into me a few more times, but then he stopped.

"What-what are you doing?" I was so close to the edge that I would have done just about anything to come, which is what Hayes wanted, of course.

"Beg for it," he said.

I stared back at him in disbelief. "What?"

"Beg me to let you come." He ground his hips against me, and my eyelids fluttered.

My throat was dry and I wasn't sure if I was capable of speech, but I had to try. "Please, Matt, please. Make me lose control. Make me come. Claim me as yours."

That seemed to be all the incentive he needed. He was now pounding into me, and I wanted to beg him never to stop. I writhed and struggled, even as my legs wrapped around him, trying to draw him deeper inside. When I finally came, my whole body seized up, as if it couldn't handle such intense pleasure. I threw back my head in a silent scream and let the orgasm take me.

As I slowly recovered from the aftershocks, I was vaguely aware of the fact that Hayes was still thrusting into me. Then I heard what sounded like a sob and his body shook above me. I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew, Hayes was nudging my shoulder. I pried my eyes open and found him draped across my chest.

"You can lower your hands now," Hayes said.

"What?" I flexed my fingers and realized that my hands were still above my head, even though they were no longer pinned to the mattress. I sighed dramatically. "I don't think I can."

Kissing the inside of each wrist, Hayes lowered my arms to my side. Then he moved to the edge of the mattress and started to remove his boots.

I gaped at him incredulously. "You're taking off your clothes now? _Now?_"

"I can't sleep with my boots on," Hayes said. "Besides, my uniform's all sticky."

I propped myself up on one elbow. "And whose fault is that?"

Hayes turned his head and his eyes travelled down my body. "Well, yours," he said.

I glanced down at myself in chagrin. "Oh. Right."

Shrugging out of his shirt, Hayes leaned forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. "I'm not complaining, Malcolm. Really." He quickly stripped off the rest of his clothes and returned to bed. I laid my hand on his chest, over his heart. Hayes wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. "I can't believe you're the same man I had sex with in the gym," he said.

"What do you mean?" I lifted my head to see if Hayes was joking, but he was serious.

"You were so uptight when we first got together," he said. "Intimacy was practically a foreign concept."

I poked him in the ribs, though I knew he was right.

"You were so tense that first time you bottomed, I wondered if it was your first time ever," Hayes said. He must have felt my back stiffen because his hand went still. "Oh, God, it wasn't, was it?"

I bit back a groan. This was a conversation I had hoped to avoid.

"Malcolm?" There was a note of concern in Hayes's voice, and his hand had migrated to my hair.

"It wasn't my first time," I said. "Not exactly."

"What exactly does 'not exactly' mean?" Hayes asked. He grabbed my chin and I was forced to meet his eyes.

"My first time on the bottom--my first time _ever,_ actually--was a long time ago." I sighed. "A very long time ago, indeed."

"How long ago?" Hayes released my chin, and I resisted the urge to lower my eyes.

"Well, it was more years than I'd care to remember, to tell the truth. It was at school. I was fifteen and...and it was with an older boy, a prefect." I laughed nervously. "It's funny but I can't remember his name." I laid my head on Hayes's shoulder, and fingers nestled into my hair.

"Was it consensual?" Hayes asked.

My head might have snapped up again if Hayes wasn't holding it in place. "Of course it was consensual! I wasn't sexually assaulted if that's what you're implying!"

His fingers clenched in my hair. "But he hurt you."

I closed my eyes and fought off the wave of revulsion that was rising in my chest. "It wasn't intentional. We were both inexperienced. We...we didn't know any better."

"You should have tried to stop him," Hayes said. "It's not supposed to hurt."

I didn't hide my irritation. "I know that _now_. I just didn't realize it at the time."

Hayes trailed a hand down my spine. "No wonder you had so much trouble trusting me," he said. "I'm surprised you ever allowed me to be on top. I would have thought you'd be afraid that I'd--" Suddenly Hayes sat up, knocking me on to the mattress. "You wanted me to hurt you!"

I pushed myself off the mattress and confronted him. "Yes, I wanted you to hurt me."

Hayes immediately rose from the bed. "What kind of sick bastard are you?"

"Hayes," I said. "Matt." I grabbed his wrist. "You deserve an explanation. If you decide to leave after that, I won't stop you."

Hayes still looked angry, but he sat back down on the bed anyway. "All right, I'm listening," he growled.

I moved beside him on the mattress, but made no attempt to touch him. "I wanted you to hurt me. I should have known that you wouldn't."

"Pain? Is that all you wanted?" Hayes shook his head in disgust.

I moved a little closer. "I didn't think I'd be able to feel anything else," I said. "I was surprised when I did."

Hayes didn't say anything at first, and I was afraid that he really would leave. Then he reached for a pillow and whacked me on the head with it. "How can you possibly be so screwed up?"

I grinned in sheer bloody relief. "I blame my childhood."

"Well, my childhood wasn't all that peachy either," Hayes said, "but I'm not screwed up." I snorted in derision, and Hayes hit me with the pillow again. "All right, not _completely_ screwed up."

I snatched the pillow from Hayes's hands and hid it behind my back. "So your childhood wasn't all that peachy."

Hayes frowned. "No, it wasn't."

"Your father?" I asked. When Hayes shot me a startled glance, I quickly elaborated. "You don't like to be called by your first name."

Hayes gritted his teeth. "That's because I'm not him, no matter how hard he tried to mold me into his image."

"Ah, yes, I'm afraid I understand your plight all too well." I leaned my cheek against his back. "I've been estranged from my own father for years for pretty much the same reason."

"Having met your father, I'm not really surprised," Hayes said.

I barked out a laugh. "No, I imagine not."

Managing a smile, Hayes said, "No wonder we're so screwed up."

"I guess this means we're meant for each other." I was joking and expected Hayes to brush off my comment, but he wrapped an arm around my shoulders instead.

"I guess it does," he said.

***

The next morning I went to see the captain. This time my unexpected visit didn't surprise him: it put him on the defensive. He stood with his hands on his hips, blocking access to his ready room.

"This really isn't the best time, Malcolm," he said. "We'll be in range of the Tellarite ship in less than an hour."

I nodded. "Yes, I know. That's why I'm here."

The captain's forehead creased in confusion before he recovered his poise. "Well, I guess you'd better come in, then." He stepped back from the door and ushered me inside reluctantly. I had just sat down on the couch when the captain said, "I have a pretty good idea what you're going to say, and I'm afraid the answer's no."

"Why?" I asked. "Why can't I go?"

"Why? You want to know _why?_" The captain sighed deeply. "You're needed on the bridge."

"With all due respect, sir, that's bollocks," I said.

I expected to see the captain's temper flare, but he only seemed interested in making more excuses. "We still can't be entirely sure what effects travelling...here might have had on you."

"There's nothing wrong with me. Phlox cleared me for duty." I couldn't understand why he was having so much trouble accepting me. Then I had a disturbing thought. "You still don't trust me."

"Of course I trust you!" the captain said.

"So you just don't trust me to carry out my duties. Is that it, sir?" I demanded.

The captain stood and started to pace the small confines of his ready room.

"Perhaps it would be best if you were to restrict me to my quarters or toss me in the brig," I said. The captain glared at me, but I was feeling reckless. "You could take me for walks every day and maybe, if I'm really good, you'll let me visit the armoury and slip me some cheese."

"Lieutenant!" The captain was standing in front of me. I froze when I realized that the man was actually shaking. Had I made him that furious? "Malcolm." He crossed his arms over his chest in a posture that wasn't characteristic of Jonathan Archer at all.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he said. "It's nothing short of a miracle that you're here now." He looked at me with earnest, almost pleading, eyes. "I'd hate to get you back just to lose you again. You can understand that, can't you?"

I stared back at the captain in shock. I couldn't have been more wrong about him. His actions had been motivated by grief not distrust.

"I do understand," I said, "and...and I'm sorry for any pain I might have caused. I know that this hasn't have been easy for you."

The captain released a shaky breath. "No. No, it hasn't." He sat down on the arm of the couch. "You don't know how good it is to have you back." He smiled, but then it faded. "I'm sorry I've been acting so awkwardly around you."

"No, your behaviour has been exemplary, sir." I was lying, of course, and the captain knew it.

"Malcolm, it's been awkward as hell," he said.

I snorted, failing to conceal a laugh. "Well, it's been awkward for the whole crew. I know Major Hayes has found it difficult."

"Well, he would," the captain said.

I glanced at him curiously. Then my curiosity turned to panic. Did he know about us? Had we somehow given our secret away? I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. "What do you mean?"

"He asked to lead the mission to rescue Hoshi from the Xindi and--" The captain's lips clamped shut and he looked away.

"What?" I said.

The captain's eyes flew back to my face. "It's not important, Malcolm."

"On the contrary, I think it's very important." There was a cool detached quality to my voice that belied the anger that was simmering inside of me. "So the major asked to lead the rescue mission. Did he say why?"

The captain squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Please don't do this, Malcolm."

"Do what exactly?" I asked. "I just want to know why Major Hayes believed that I wasn't capable of leading the rescue mission."

The captain's head came up sharply. "He never said that!"

"No? Then why did he ask to lead the mission?" I was now sounding indignant and haughty. The captain grimaced. He knew it was a sign that I wouldn't back down.

"Major Hayes questioned whether you would be able to carry out the mission objectively because of your friendship with Hoshi," the captain said.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Oh, come on! I've managed to rescue Trip and Travis before and they're my friends. Objectivity wasn't an issue then."

The captain raised a hand. "I know, Malcolm. I told him as much. In fact, I argued that your friendship with Hoshi would give you even more incentive to bring her back safely."

"Well, good," I said. "I'm glad to hear it."

The captain frowned and rubbed his face wearily. "That was when Major Hayes cited the number of times you'd been hurt in the line of duty," he said. "The list was impressive enough to make me question my decision, but I didn't change my mind." The captain looked directly in my eyes. "There isn't a day that goes by when I don't wonder if I should have listened to him."

I rose from the couch slowly, barely able to contain my emotions.

"Malcolm?" The captain sounded as if he were coming to me from a great distance, so I ignored him. If he said anything else as I stormed from the room, I didn't hear it. I heard nothing but the roar in my ears.

***

Hayes was speaking to his men when I barged into the armoury. He turned to me in surprise, but I wasn't willing to acknowledge him. Instead, I addressed the room in general.

"You're dismissed," I said.

No one moved, of course. I wasn't their C.O.

"Yes, I do realize that I'm dead, and that you no longer take orders from me, but I don't particularly care. I'm still dismissing you."

I was satisfied to note that all Starfleet personnel left immediately. However, most of the MACOs were staring at me with blank expressions. Well, everyone except Corporal Cole, who was looking faintly amused, damn her. Then Hayes cleared his throat, and I unleashed my rage.

"Don't even think of countermanding me!" I shouted.

Hayes nodded stiffly. "Understood," he said. He cast a quick glance at the MACOs. "You heard Lieutenant Reed. Everyone is dismissed."

I glared at Hayes pointedly. "Not you."

"No, I kinda figured." Hayes watched the MACOs exit the armoury, only looking at me once they were gone. "Wow," he said, "you're really pissed."

"Yes, I'm really pissed." I was so angry, in fact, that my voice shook. I was amazed that I had formed a complete sentence.

Hayes moved towards me. "Malcolm."

I raised both hands to ward him off. I didn't want him to touch me or try to make it better. In the captain's ready room, one horrible thought had made my blood run cold. On _my_ Enterprise had Hayes asked if he could lead the mission in my place? Had he died because of me?

Unable to face my fears, I satisfied my temper instead. "How could you go to the captain and...and undermine me that way?" I demanded.

"I didn't say anything to the captain! I don't know what you're talking about!" Hayes reached for me, but I pushed him away.

"You told the captain that I shouldn't lead the mission to save Hoshi from the Xindi because I couldn't be objective. Then, when that didn't work, you decided to list all my other failings in an attempt to--"

"It wasn't like that!" Hayes cried.

I crossed my arms and smiled at him coldly. "Oh? Then what was it like? I can't help but notice that you aren't denying the accusation."

Hayes grabbed me by the shoulders before I could stop him. "I wasn't trying to undermine you."

"No?" I said. "Then why did you go behind my back and over my head to the captain? Were you simply in the mood for a little chat?" The grip on my shoulders grew painful and I laughed bitterly. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that everything you said just slipped out, that it was simply an accident?" I shook my head sharply. "You've accused me of being paranoid in the past, but how can I possibly trust you when you betrayed me? It's-it's unforgivable."

Hayes wasn't usually an easy man to read, but the pain in his eyes was all too clear. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and strained.

"I did it because I love you," he said. He released my shoulders and tried to brush past me, but I blocked his path.

"Hold on! You can't say something like that and walk away!" I said.

"Why not?" Hayes asked. "You said that what I did was unforgivable. If that's true then what the hell could we possibly have left to say to each other?" Hayes tried to slip past me again, but I latched on to his arm.

"Why? Why do you love me?" I took Hayes by the chin when he refused to look at me, trying to find the answer in those hazel eyes.

"Lieutenant, if I knew that..." Hayes trailed off helplessly. "I don't know why. I just know that I do. Ever since that night we sparred in the gym, I've felt...something." He closed his eyes. "I know you don't want to hear this, and I must be making you uncomfortable, but--"

I held a finger to his lips. "I'm afraid that I was a little slower on the uptake. I had to lose you before I realized that I loved you."

Hayes blinked a few times, as if he were just waking up. "You-you love me?"

"Yes, you idiot, I love you," I said. I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. The kiss was gentle, almost chaste. Neither one of us had anything left to prove.

"You don't know how much it means to hear you say that," Hayes said. "I know it couldn't have been easy for you, but--"

I planted another kiss on his lips. "Actually, it wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be." I smiled and was delighted when Hayes's face broke into a grin. We must have remained like that for several seconds before reality reasserted its claim on the armoury.

"We should go," Hayes said. "They're going to wonder what happened to us."

I sighed. "I suppose so." I followed Hayes through the door and into the corridor, almost colliding with him when he made an abrupt stop. The MACOs I had dismissed were gathered outside the armoury. Worse, still, the captain and Trip had joined them.

"Well," Trip said. "I don't see any broken bones or other signs of severe trauma."

"Does that mean all's forgiven?" the captain asked. There was a degree of apprehension in his voice, and I couldn't help thinking that he seemed to be asking on his own behalf as well.

I shot a glance at Hayes. "Not quite but we're working on it."

The captain relaxed visibly when he heard the news. "Good," he said. "We've tracked down the rebel ship. I assume you still want to be on Major Hayes's team?"

***

When I walked into the transporter room, I was struck by the most startling sense of déjà vu. Trip was standing at the control station again, and there were four MACOs assembling on the transporter platform. However, this time I was seeing Kemper, Romero, Money and a corporal I hadn't met before. Another notable exception was the presence of Hayes at my side. He went over to speak with Trip, and I took my place with the other MACOs.

"I'm glad you're on the team, sir," Kemper said by way of greeting.

"Thank you, Sergeant. It's good to be here." I had started to feel like a prisoner, so I was happy to be going on an away mission. I patted my phase pistol fondly then looked up when I heard laughter from the control station.

"Keep your shirt on, Lieutenant," Trip said. "I'll get you over there in plenty of time to shoot something."

"But only as a last resort," Hayes added. "We're supposed to subdue the rebels using peaceful measures, remember?"

I sniffed disdainfully. "It never hurts to be prepared, especially when you're dealing with Klingons. I believe that's a lesson you learned yesterday when interrogating Khoran, Major."

Hayes's lips twitched. "Touché, Lieutenant." He walked across the room and stood beside me. "Actually, it's good advice. We can't be sure what to expect on the other--" Suddenly Hayes froze and I saw fear in his eyes. "Malcolm!" He lunged at me, trying to grab me with both arms, but I never felt anything.

The room dissolved for a second then returned. When I looked around, I was the only one standing on the transporter platform.

"Oh, thank God! I thought I'd lost you!" A pale and shaken Trip was leaning heavily against his console.

I stared at him in complete bafflement. I hadn't seen him activate the transporter, so I couldn't understand how he'd almost lost me. More importantly, I couldn't figure out where everyone else had gone.

"What happened?" I asked.

Trip slumped even further. "You were trapped in the pattern buffer for 10.2 seconds, though it felt like a _lot_ longer. Hell, Malcolm, I think you might have set a new record."

"New record?" I shook my head in frustration. "What about everyone else?" I demanded. "Are they okay?"

"They're fine," Trip said. "They all made it to the station in one piece."

"Station? What...?" And in that terrible sickening moment, I knew that I was back on Enterprise. _My_ Enterprise.

"Malcolm, what's wrong?" Trip was rushing towards me. I knew that if he reached me, it would all be over. I reached for my holster and pulled out my phase pistol.

"Send me back, Trip."

Trip skidded to a halt, gaping at the weapon in my hand. "What?" he gasped.

"Send me back to where I just came from," I said.

Trip's eyes widened. "Malcolm, you were trapped in the pattern buffer!"

I gripped the phase pistol more tightly. "Fine. Do the same thing again."

"Are you out of your god-damn mind? You could have been killed the first time! If I hadn't managed to re-integrate your matter stream, you'd be dead right now!" Trip sounded furious and more than a little frightened. I wished I could have spared him this, but I had no choice.

I lifted the phase pistol a little higher, aiming it right at his chest. "I said take me back."

Trip swallowed and raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, Malcolm, I don't know what happened to you while you were stuck in there, but you need to calm down. Now, just put that phase pistol back in its holster and we'll talk."

I kept the phase pistol exactly where it was. "You don't understand. I have to go back." Then I saw the concerned expression on Trip's face. "It'll be okay," I said. "Really."

"Okay?" Trip shouted. "You're aiming a phase pistol at me, telling me to spread your molecules to kingdom come, and you think everything's going to be _okay?_"

My hand began to tremble, but I didn't lower my weapon. "I'm just asking you to-to do whatever you did before to trap my signal in the pattern buffer."

"Forget it!" Trip said. "There's no way in hell I would ever trap anyone in the pattern buffer on purpose, so put down the damn phase pistol and report to sickbay! That's an order!" He took a step towards me then stopped when he saw my fingers shift slightly on the trigger.

"One more step and I shoot you, Commander."

"You shoot me and I'll see to it that you're court-martialled," Trip said. "Is a hallucination really worth your career?"

"I wasn't hallucinating!"

Trip smiled at me smugly. "Sure it was a hallucination. The same thing happened to Hoshi when she got trapped in the pattern buffer."

An intense burst of rage hit me. I changed the phase pistol setting from stun to kill, never lowering the weapon from its target. "I mean it, Trip. I'll do it."

If I had been dealing with anyone else, this tactic might have succeeded, but Trip refused to budge. He simply crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. "If you kill me, you won't have anyone to operate the transporter," he said. "Think about it."

I did think about it and was forced to admit that Trip was absolutely right. That left only one option--a better option, in fact, because I knew I'd never be able to kill Trip. I pointed the phase pistol at my own head.

"Malcolm!" Trip cried. "Oh my God, Malcolm, no!" He turned a shade paler and sweat broke out on his forehead. "Okay, okay, I'll do it, Malcolm! Just put the phase pistol down!"

I flicked my eyes at the control station. "Set up the transporter first," I said.

"Right. Set up the transporter." Trip ran back to his console and set to work on the necessary adjustments. "Look, Malcolm, I'm holding up my end of the bargain, so why don't you put down the phase pistol."

"I'll lower it when you activate the transporter," I said.

Trip shook his head. "Well, as you seem intent on killing yourself anyway, I guess it doesn't matter." He hit two more buttons and then looked up. "I'm going to activate the transporter. I hope you're ready."

"I'm more than ready." I lowered the phase pistol, though I didn't release my grip on it.

Trip sighed and placed his hands on the energizer. "Here goes," he said. He pushed the switches forward, and I waited for the transporter room to disappear. What I saw instead were four shapes emerging on the pads around me.

I raised my phase pistol, forgetting that it was still set to kill, but a fully materialized McKenzie had faster reflexes. She drew her weapon a split second before I did and shot me in the chest. That was when I realized that Trip had opened a channel to the away team when he'd started working at the control station.

"I'm sorry, Malcolm," I heard Trip say. Then my world collapsed, and I was spinning into darkness.

***

I must be crying because Hoshi is dabbing my face with a tissue. There are tears running down her cheeks and a hint of sorrow in those big dark eyes.

"You believe me?" I ask.

"Yes, of course I believe you," she says.

My gaze shifts to the straps restraining me. "Then you don't think I'm mad?"

Hoshi shakes her head emphatically. "No."

I lick my lips nervously. "Could you...could you help me convince them of that?"

Hoshi squeezes my hand. "No, only you can do that." She tries to muster a smile and fails miserably.

"What is it?" I ask.

She stares down at her hands. "When you talk to Phlox tell him that you were confused and disorientated after being trapped in the pattern buffer," she says. "Tell him you were hallucinating."

I struggle to sit up despite the restraints. "I thought you said you believed me!"

"Shh..." Hoshi lays a hand on my forehead. "I _do_ believe you, but I don't think you'll find anyone else who will. They wouldn't understand."

I feel tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you when...when the same thing happened to you."

"That's okay," Hoshi says. "You believe me now. Maybe if we believe in each other, we can keep both our worlds alive."

***

"I don't know if anyone told you, but C9 is safe now," the captain says. "We managed to disable the Bird of Prey and capture the rebels before they could attack the station."

I'm grateful for the news. "Thank you, sir. I hadn't heard."

We're sitting on two biobeds, talking to each other across the gap. Although Phlox has officially released me from sickbay, the captain still seems worried.

"I'm absolutely fine," I say.

Despite my reassurances, the captain doesn't look convinced. "I want you to take a couple of days off."

"But, sir--"

"Look, Malcolm, I don't know what you saw, or think you saw, when you were trapped in the pattern buffer, but it obviously shook you up," the captain says. "Just take some time to deal with it. We're not in the Expanse anymore. You can afford to do that."

I'm about to argue with him and then remember what happened in the transporter room. A brief vacation would provide a wonderful opportunity for me to lay low and recover from my embarrassment.

"All right, sir," I say.

The captain looks stunned for an instant then he scrutinizes me through narrowed eyes.

"I'm fine," I say. "Really."

The captain leans forward, resting his hands on his knees. "If there's anything you need to talk about..."

I'm tempted to ask him about Hayes. On this Enterprise had Hayes asked the captain to lead the rescue mission? On this Enterprise had Hayes died trying to protect me? I decide that such questions would serve no purpose. Hayes would still be dead. The truth wouldn't bring him back.

As if sensing my conflicted emotions, the captain slips off his biobed and crosses over to me. "You'll come to me if there's ever anything you need to talk about, won't you?"

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

The captain pats me on the shoulder. "Get some rest. That's an order."

***

As I walk wearily to my quarters, I want nothing more than to curl up in bed and pretend that neither of my worlds ever existed. However, as I enter my quarters, I spot a man standing in front of my desk. He spins around when he hears the swish of the door.

"Oh, uh, hi!" Trip says. He tries to block my view of the desk, but I have no trouble seeing the tray sitting on its surface.

"Do you always sneak around leaving food in people's quarters?" I ask.

Trip blushes. "I thought I'd be in and out before you got here, but Chef took longer to cook the pancakes than I expected."

"Pancakes?" I move to the desk to take a better look at what Trip brought me. There are indeed pancakes, light fluffy pancakes stacked high on the plate. Beside the pancakes, there's a container of peanut butter and a mug of tea. I instantly remember the breakfast that seems like it was a lifetime ago. In reality, it's only been a few hours.

"You did all this for me?" I ask.

Trip rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "It was meant to be a peace offering."

"A peace offering? A peace offering for...?" When I realize what he's referring to I quickly back away. "Oh, no. No, Trip. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I-I threatened to kill you."

Trip reaches out and grasps my arm. "I knew you wouldn't really kill me. Besides, you weren't exactly yourself."

I bite my lip. "No, I'm pretty sure I was, actually," I say.

"Oh." That one word speaks volumes, and I know that a simple apology won't be enough.

"Well, now that I've got my breakfast, I suppose we'd better finish our chat."

Trip studies me carefully, much the same way the captain had in sickbay. "Are you sure?" he asks.

I look down at the tray on my desk, tangible proof of our friendship. Perhaps the waking world isn't so unbearable after all.

"Yes," I say. "I'd like that."


End file.
